


a song of the wind

by totallyrottentomatoes



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Pirate, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Sirens, Slow Burn, World Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:41:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyrottentomatoes/pseuds/totallyrottentomatoes
Summary: Killua finds himself on a pirate ship without his memories, without a clue how he got there, and without an escape.
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 46
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

Killua awoke, for the first time in his life, to a song. 

There was a string instrument playing, and what seemed like dozens of overlapping voices singing off-tune to a medley for which no one agreed on the words. 

But the music that called to him was that of the sound of rushing water, the feeling of wind through his hair, the burn of the sun kissing his skin, and the fresh, salty air flowing into his lungs. This song was freedom. He might have thought it was only a dream if he couldn’t feel a spray of mist on his face, collecting and dripping down his cheeks in thick, heavy droplets. 

He blinked his heavy eyelids open, squinting from the sun. A large flag rippled in the wind, blocking his view of much in front of him. The sea, he thought stupidly. Had he ever seen the sea before? 

“Hey, boss!” One of the voices hollered. “I think he’s waking up!”

Killua’s eyes adjusted slowly. He let out a groan, realizing just how bad his head hurt. His head, and his arms. He attempted his flex his muscles, only to find them restrained at his sides. So much for freedom. 

His head flopped lazily down to the side as he took in the damage. He was clearly tied up and unable to move, and worse, he had no idea how he got there. The fog in his head made stringing together anything from before that moment nearly impossible. He fought the urge to close his eyes again. 

The wind changed, tugging the red flag the other direction, out of Killua’s view. From what Killua could tell, he was on a ship. Men and women moved quickly about the deck below, a few of them tending to the masts and sails that flew high and shuttered against the force of the wind. He tilted his head up and confirmed that he was bound to a similar mast on some higher level of the ship. He tried to order his brain to think of something, anything, useful to get him out of this situation. He willed his limbs to push against the ropes that bound him to the mast. And more than anything, he willed himself not to panic. 

“That so?” A voice called out. Killua tried to find where the voice had come from, his eyes scanning up into the sails. He saw a figure standing stop the wooden frame of the sails for a moment before the ropes went taunt and they disappeared. 

Then the figure, a man glad in green pants and a loose-fitting shirt white shirt, swung back into view. He swung downward from the rope, and for a second Killua held his breath in awe. The man’s green hair ruffled as he soared through the air, and the smile on his face was so wide and earth shattering that Killua felt it all the way from the deck. The man looked like freedom felt. He landed gracefully on the railing in front of Killua, not unlike a bird lands after flight. That close, Killua could tell the man had eyes as golden as sunlight and skin that was the endearing kind of weathered, freckles peppering along his nose and cheekbones. 

He blinked, tried to control his clouded thoughts, and failed. “Beautiful,” he breathed instead, because it was the only word he could think. 

The man threw his head back and laughed, a sound like thunder in a summer storm, a sound like nothing Killua had ever heard. He wanted to hear it again. 

“You’re a lot nicer to me when you don’t recognize me,” he said. 

Killua’s mind lagged, but it at least started to move again. Was he supposed to know this man? 

“Do I know you?” He asked, his voice sounding far away and confused. 

The man cocked his head to the side. “Yes and no,” he said, still smiling. “But we’ve met.” He stood up to his full height from his crouched position, bowing dramatically in front of Killua. “The pleasure is all mine, Killua Zoldyck.”

At the sound of his name, the pain in his head intensified, pressing against the inside of his skull until he could see nothing but blackness and feel nothing but sleep. 

The next time he came to, he realized in an instant he was bound. It was dark outside, but he could tell from the persistent pain in his muscles that he had probably only been tied for a day, no more than two. Killua’s mind raced immediately with the information he had to go on. 

He quickly came to the conclusion this was very little. 

He was on a boat, that much he could tell. He knew very little about boats. He was on a higher level of the deck, and he could see in front of him a wheel, but no one was manning it from what he could tell. His position overlooked the deck, which was mostly vacant and lit only with a few candles swinging to and fro with the ship. He could hear laughter and talking, but it was distant, like they were below the deck. 

Killua amended his thoughts from before: this was clearly a ship, not a boat. And from the looks of it, they were sailing the ocean. 

Killua heard the thud of boots on wood behind him and stiffened. It was impossible for him to turn his head enough to see whoever was there, but his hair stood on end and his senses came to life nonetheless. 

“People who sneak up on me normally die,” he said lowly, dangerously. 

A man appeared in front of him, barely visible in the dark. His outline was tall and bulking with muscle, but he didn’t appear to be much older than Killua was. Killua watched his movements, calculating the best way to take him down when he got the chance. 

“And here I was thinking you would compliment me again,” the man said, laughing. 

Killua recognized that laugh. His heart twinged in his chest. He frowned, trying to remember if he had ever seen this person before. 

“Not much to compliment,” Killua said indifferently. If there was one thing he knew, it was never to look flustered. He knew this, but he had no idea how he knew it. He fought back a cringe at his apparent memory loss. “Let me down from here and fight me for whatever it is that you want.” 

The stranger raised his eyebrows. “You really don’t remember?” 

“Nice try,” Killua spat. “Just tell me what it is so I can say no and make you tell me how I can get home.” He needed to distract the man while he found a way out of the binding. 

The man crossed his arms and stood back. “We need your Nen, of course. I’m not going to hurt you, I want to strike a deal.”

“A deal? So that’s why I’m tied up like a prisoner,” Killua deadpanned. “Thanks for clearing that up.”

“You’re not a prisoner!”

“Oh?” Killua lilted. “Then untie me.” He remained as calm as possible on the outside, but Killua’s questions were starting to pile up. The man seemed surprised he couldn’t remember how he ended up on the ship, but they clearly weren’t allies. Killua couldn’t remember why, but the idea of having allies seemed absurd to him. Clearly not that. He tried not to fret against the press of the ropes against his chest. He had no reason to think so, but somehow he could feel that he’s been through worse and lived. Slowly, carefully, he reached his fingers down to his thigh. He could feel his knives there, just where he’d thought they’d be. He’d have to do it without Shu, but in the dark it might be possible to cut through the rope without the man knowing. 

“I can’t! You wouldn’t listen before and nearly hurt Knuckle and Shoot.” 

“That suppose to mean something to me?” 

The man sighed. “Okay, here’s the deal. We need your Nen to get somewhere quickly. Just tell us how to do it and help us and we’ll compensate you for it.” 

Killua could remember all the properties of Godspeed, but the throbbing in his head returned as soon as he tried to recall the encounter with the man’s buddies. Whatever intel they had on him was obviously bogus, seeing as he wouldn’t be able to make the ship move faster. Killua mulled this over. If he told the man he couldn’t help him, would they kill him? If he said that he could and they found out he lied, would they kill him? There was no way to be sure, but he needed to buy only a little more time. 

“Who says I’ll use my Hatsu to help you?” He questioned hesitantly. 

The man put his hand on his chin. “Well, maybe you are a prisoner then.” He smiled widely and pointed at Killua. “You have to help us! The other stuff is just a bonus!”

Killua cut the last of the rope and focused his aura to his foot, using Ko to propel himself over to the man. In the same instant he pulled his knife out and reached it out for the man’s throat. Before he could reach it, however, something caught his hand, pulling him backwards. He landed with a thud on the ground, his knife clattering across the deck. 

The golden-eyed man stared back at him owlishly, his face unreadable. He hadn’t so much as batted an eye. Killua sat up with a groan and watched as another man stepped in front of the green-haired one protectively. All Killua could see of him was his eyes flaring scarlet against the darkness of the night and the chains that drew back from Killua’s hand to the Nen-user’s side. 

“Try that again, and I’ll tie you in chains and throw you overboard, Hatsu be damned.” His voice was laced with danger; Killua could tell he meant every word. He turned his head slightly to his companion. 

“Gon, that was dangerous. You should have told me he woke up.” 

The man, Gon, waved his hand in the air. “It’s okay Kurapika! We were having a nice chat.” 

Kurapika ignored him, turning back to Killua. “Don’t be so stupid as to try that again. If you harm anyone on this ship, especially Gon, you’ll be fighting a crew of Nen users with nowhere but the bottom of the ocean to go.” 

Killua glared back at him defiantly. “What if I escape?” 

“Don’t try to leave,” Gon said hastily. “There’s only death for people who abandon ship in the middle of a voyage.” 

Killua hesitated. He knew the next words would taste like bile coming out of his mouth, but he saw little other choice. “What if I stay?” He swallowed and reluctantly added, “willingly?” 

Gon smiled at him, his teeth catching the light. “Then we’ll treat you like any other crew member! Well, provided you help us.” 

“That means bottom of the barrel work duty,” Kurapika added coldly. 

Killua stood up. “There’s a difference between not fighting my way off this ship and saying that I’ll help you with whatever it is you want me to do,” he said.

Kurapika clutched his chains closer to his sides, looking like he was ready to fight again. Gon held up his hand to stop him. 

“We have a few days until we need you to do anything,” he said, like he was thinking out loud. “We have a few… errands to run. But after that, we need your help. You have until then to decide if you’ll do it on your own free will.”

“Errands,” Killua repeated back to him slowly. He needed to know if there was a chance for escape before his luck ran out and they discovered the true nature of his Hatsu. Did these ‘errands’ entail a way off this death ship?

“The usual,” Gon said, smiling widely again. “Stealing, mostly.” 

Killua nodded his understanding. “So you’re pirates, then.” 

Gon laughed, throwing his head back with the effort of it. Killua imagined how easy it would be to slice his throat in that moment, his whole neck exposed and open. Kurapika still watched him, though, like he knew exactly what he was thinking. He watched Killua like he would strike him down without a second thought. Killua knew it then, that there was something that made these people act crazy, and whatever it was could be dangerous. 

“Pirates, Kurapika,” Gon said between giggles, like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. He squared his shoulders and looked back at Killua. “Well yeah, I guess we are. The very best.”

Gon kept his word, letting Killua move freely around the deck once day broke, and it seemed that Kurapika was set on keeping his as well. Gon had vanished, quite literally back into the sky, sometime before Kurapika had decided to untie him. He had allowed him to keep his knives, which almost felt more like an insult than anything. 

“Here’s where we soak the pots from dinner,” he said, showing Killua the kitchens. The deck and cabins were fairly empty, the crew only just starting to move around in the early morning. Kurapika led Killua down a side set of stairs that opened up into a small but quaint dining space. Candles lit the area even though the sun had started to rise. “You can clean these and then do as you please until dinner.” 

“Where’s Gon?” Killua found himself asking. He didn’t like the way the rest of the crew ignored him while also making it obvious they didn’t trust him one bit. They gave him side-eyes as he walked by, scanning him like an enemy. Gon at least eased the tension. 

“The dirty water goes there when you’re finished,” Kurapika answered shortly, gesturing around the dish area. 

Kurapika tuned on his heel and headed back to the deck. Killua huffed in annoyance and looked at the mess in front of him. He wasn’t sure why the idea of cleaning dishes bothered him so much, but it did. He was… well, he was at least Killua Zoldyck, a man who did not enjoy residue of beans and rice and a mystery sauce. _Finish the stupid task_ , he told himself. Finish the task and then go figure out a way back to land. That was motivation enough. 

He stacked the last of the pots back on the hanging shelves before breakfast was served. The cook got to work without so much as sparing him a glance, but as he left the kitchens in favor of beating the crowds, she shoved a loaf of bread into his hands. Then she turned her nose up at him and went back to banging pots and mixing various ingredients in freshly washed pans. This was just as well to Killua. 

He hardly made it onto the deck before Kurapika had given him another mindless duty. 

“Check all the ropes on the ship for tears,” Kurapika told him.

Killua smiled devilishly. “What if I accidentally miss one?” 

Kurapika took his meaning. “Then I will kill you.” 

Checking all the ropes on the ship took longer than he expected. He had little knowledge of how pirate ships operated, but after his day he would guess it was rope instead of wood holding the entire thing together. He tried not to let his annoyance show as he moved through the different parts of the ship. He attempted to absorb himself in cataloging the various lifeboats, weapons, and materials on the deck, but he was still bored. The day seemed to drag on, so he started to pay a more attention to the crew. He told himself it was to assess the weaknesses of the ship, but truthfully, he was curious about them. He listened as songs of the sea broke out, the crew going through their jobs effortlessly but flawlessly all the same. It made for an atmosphere that frankly seemed enjoyable. They would sing a song or tell a joke all while hoisting a sail to the perfect height as though they were born to do it. Killua managed to look unimpressed. 

A hissing sound focused Killua’s attention back to his job. The rope in his hand was quickly snatched away, leaving a tinge of red where it had rubbed his skin. 

“What the hell?” Killua yelled, looking at the stranger who had gotten in his way. 

The person looking back at him was tall, easily the tallest person Killua had seen on the ship. His pants cropped around mid-calf and his loose shirt exposed the jewelry hanging from his neck and arms. He pulled a curved knife out from his waistband behind his back. 

“No one touches the compass but me.” He growled. 

“Alright, relax, I don’t care about your stupid compass.” Killua hadn’t even really noticed it before that moment. It was rather large for a compass and covered in gold plating and jewels, sitting heavily on a stand near the rear of the ship. It pointed the direction they were moving, ticking slightly as the ship bounced under the waves. 

Killua raised an eyebrow. “It’s broken, though. Why doesn’t it point true north? Pretty stupid to have such a gaudy compass that points the wrong way.” 

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about, kid,” the man spat, leaning forward threateningly. “Back off.” 

“Leorio, is he giving you trouble?” Killua could barely stop himself from rolling his eyes at Kurapika as he approached. Of course. 

“Not everything is my fault, you know,” he bit out. 

“And yet here you are, with the keeper of our most prized possession pointing his knife at your throat.”

“Maybe he shouldn’t point his knife at just anyone,” Killua replied lowly. Kurapika nodded to Leorio, who stood back and put his weapon away. Killua didn’t miss the questioning look that Leorio gave Kurapika, even if he couldn’t begin to comprehend what it might mean. 

“Stay away from the compass.” Kurapika said to Killua. Then, to Leorio, “dinner is almost ready. I’ll bring it up to you.” 

Killua scowled at being ignored and shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He had finished with the ropes, at least, and he was hungry. His pride wouldn’t let him trail behind Kurapika, but he watched him go so he could follow soon after. He wanted to get in and out of the dining space as quickly as possible, interacting with as few members of the crew as he could manage. 

Killua hadn’t seen the busy part of the day for breakfast, but he was in the thick of it for lunch time. The dining area was already bustling with people when Killua slipped in, everyone pushing their way to the front of the line. Killua even watched as some larger men prodded at Kurapika as he left with his and Leorio’s bowls, earning a reluctant smile. Killua hadn’t even been sure he was capable of smiling. The benches were few and far between, but the crew all found a way to squash together, making room for each other however they could. No one moved for Killua. 

He told himself that was fine. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he was not going to be able to blend in. His pale skin and white hair already proved evidence enough that he was not the hardened sailors the rest of the crew were, but it seemed to be more than that. They all laughed together, vibrantly telling stories and finishing each other’s sentences when the laughing made it impossible. Killua couldn’t remember much, almost nothing other that what pertained directly to him, but he did know that he could never be a part of that life. The familiarly between everyone seemed so unattainable to Killua that it made his head spin.

He ducked out of the stairwell as he found his way back onto the deck. He crossed the deck and climbed to the upper level where he had been tied. He walked past the mast and the large, unmanned wheel and sat at the front of the ship, looking out over the side. The wind pushed his hair out of his face and tugged at his clothes, but he didn’t mind. He was annoyed with doing petty tasks and slightly unnerved by the people on the ship, but he could admit that he enjoyed the view. It was mesmerizing; Killua found himself trying to find where the ocean meant the sky in the vast distance, even as the sunset faded and gave way to the darkness of night. 

“Be careful or you’ll fall in,” a deep voice said behind him. Killua slid his eyes to meet Gon’s as he appeared next to him with a thud. He wasn’t sure how he managed to keep doing that. 

Killua studied him again, this time with the waning light helping him to see Gon’s features. His green hair faded darker towards the base of his head and stood up in a gravity-defying manner. His smile made his eyes look even brighter, Killua thought, as he glanced over the slight upturn of Gon’s nose and his prominent jawline. 

He was attractive. Killua decided to fold that thought away in the darkest corner of his mind and forget about it completely. He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts. 

“If I go overboard it’ll be because I jumped,” he said instead, keeping his tone even. 

Gon came up next to him, close enough that Killua could feel the heat of his skin, and leant over the railing. He hummed along to a tune the crew was singing below deck and focused into the distance as Killua had been. 

“Why are you out here?” Killua muttered grumpily. Whatever Gon was, he clearly fit right into the throws of the other members of the crew. Killua really wondered where he had vanished to all day, but he wasn’t going to act interested. 

“The company, of course!” 

Killua scrunched up his nose. “Whatever.” Killua couldn’t muster much more of his energy to be stand-offish. Something about Gon seemed… easier than the other people on the ship. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t feel like Gon watched him with the same skepticism the rest of the crew did. After spending the whole day on edge, it was a nice change of pace. 

“How old are you, Killua?” Gon asked, breaking the silence again. 

Killua bristled at the question. “You know all about me but you don’t know how old I am? You stole my memories, after all.” 

“We didn’t take your memories!” Gon started. “I’m not sure how that happened. I’ll try to help you get them back, if you want. Paku might know a thing or two, her Nen deals with memories. When I asked her about it earlier she said she might not be able to return something you lost, but there has to be a way.” 

Killua stared at Gon’s profile and tried to discern if he was lying. If he was a liar, he was extremely skilled at it. His face was set in determination as he spoke, like he really meant it about getting Killua’s memories back. He could hardly believe Gon had already been asking about it. 

Gon turned his head back to face him. “I’m seventeen.” 

“Good for you,” Killua grumbled. Then, after a minute he added, “me too.” Gon smiled at him. 

“That means we’re tied for the youngest on the ship! It’s always been me before.” 

Killua wasn’t sure what to say to that. He couldn’t imagine why age mattered on a pirate ship.

“When will we arrive at these errands?” Killua asked, wanting to turn the conversation away from anything personal before he gave himself away by asking questions. Gon seemed easily excitable, the last thing Killua needed was to give him an opening to ask his own questions. 

“Should be at the port first thing in the morning!” Gon told him, his face brightening. 

“You seem really happy to be stealing,” Killua teased.

Gon’s smile turned into a beam. “I like ports! There’re always so exciting and new.” 

Killua couldn’t remember if he’d ever been to a true port before, but he knew it should be overflowing with activity. Plenty of time to slip away and take refuge on dry land. 

And then what? He blinked as he took time to process the implications of his grand escape. What he would do after was something he couldn’t answer. Something uncomfortable stirred in his chest when he considered finding people he knew to help with his memory loss. It put a bad taste in his mouth. 

“What are you going to be taking?” Killua asked, trying to ignore the feeling unfurling in his stomach. 

Gon pinched his eyebrows together in thought. “I won’t be taking anything. The others will be taking whatever they can get from an auction that’s going to be going on with the elites in the city.” Gon tilted his head from side to side. “So we don’t know what we’ll get. I have some intel on what will be there, but who knows. All pirates lie to each other.” 

“Please tell me you don’t get your intel from pirates,” Killua groaned. It suddenly made a lot more sense about why Gon had been wrong about his Nen ability. 

“Yup!” Gon chirped. He leaned in closer to Killua until their skin brushed together. Killua felt the urge to lean into the contact; Gon’s skin was surprisingly soft. He tensed and shuffled away instead.

“It sure means things never get boring,” Gon continued, unbothered by Killua’s movement. “They don’t want us taking their haul. Everyone the crew has talked to says they aren’t going, which means they’ll be there, and they wouldn’t all be going if there wasn’t something good.” 

Killua scrunched his nose. “If all your crew asks won’t the other pirates know you’re going?” 

Gon gave him an innocent grin. “I want them to know I’m going to be there.” He scooted in closer to Killua again, touching their arms flush against each other this time. He leaned in like he was going to tell Killua a secret, his honey eyes flickering with mischief. “They never know what to do with the truth.” 

He didn’t lean away, and Killua didn’t either. Something about the proximity felt like a challenge, or a game. If that were the case, Killua thought aggressively, he wouldn’t lose. So he held Gon’s gaze and stared back at him with ice. If it were a game, then two could play. 

Killua turned his body to face Gon entirely, their shoulders all but pressed together. Gon blinked in surprise, straightening his neck and back just slightly. Killua noticed a golden necklace he hadn’t seen before shift against Gon’s skin, but the pendant was hidden under his shirt. 

“If you’re always honest, what’s left to the imagination?” Killua whispered into the small space between them. 

To his credit, Gon managed to look nothing more than caught off-guard and curious. Killua could manage a knife, but this strange game of chicken was uncharted territory for him. He much preferred fighting his way off the ship with steel and speed. Still, if Gon was going to throw down the gauntlet, it couldn’t be helped. He held his ground. 

After a few moments passed, Gon’s smile crept back onto his face. “I like you, Killua. You’re interesting!” 

The warmth he felt spreading to his cheeks forced him to duck his head away from Gon. Damn it. He turned his back and started to walk back to the cabins. 

“Want me to show you to the lofts?” 

“I’ll figure it out,” he answered sourly. He didn’t say that Kurapika had already made it a point to tell him where to sleep, which happened to be the lowest level of the ship in a room that looked suspiciously like a cell. Instead, he clenched his fists and vowed not to let Gon affect him so much. For all his charm, Killua wouldn’t let himself forget that Gon was like the rest of the ship: dangerous. 

No other people slept on the low levels of the ship. The churning of the waters kept Killua awake into the late hours of the night, and what sleep he did manage was fitful at best. He was still lying awake when he heard another person coming down the narrow hallways leading to his space. He pulled his knifes closer to his chest. Whoever it was made no difference. Killua readied himself to attack as soon as the person entered the room, but they never did. The person stopped at his door, making no noise. Then, quietly, Killua heard the sound of a lock turning. 

Whoever it was had locked him into the room. 

Killua stayed still. He could easily get out of the room if he tried, but whoever had done it must have known it was a meaningless gesture. He waited for some time for the footsteps to recede. Whatever their motive was, they’d have to be part brain dead to think anything like that would stop him. The floorboards around him started to creak as the ship tossed against the movement of the ocean. The longer he listened to the sound, the less he found that it bothered him. With his head pressed against the wood, he could all but hear the commotion of the sea like he was in it. Even with his nerves on high alert, Killua didn’t notice as he started to drift into sleep. 

A loud pounding on the door jolted him awake. He had barely sat up before Gon was pushing his way through the door like he owned the place. 

Killua glared daggers at him. “What?” He grumbled, his voice thick with sleep and irritation. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night seeing as people were creeping around my lovely room.” All it took was one guilty drop of Gon’s head for Killua to confirm his suspicions. 

“So,” Killua said, leaning to rest his back against the wall. “It was you who locked me in.” 

Gon nodded and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. His kept his other arm hidden behind his back. 

“Why?”

“I thought it might… stop you.”

Killua sighed. “Gon, if I was going to hurt anyone I would have done it already. Plus, Kurapika made it very clear-”

“Yeah I know, I don’t think you’re a danger to anyone,” Gon said, cutting him off. “It’s just, after all that stuff you said about jumping ship… I wasn’t…” Gon trailed off, looking as lost for words as Killua felt.

“You thought I was gong to _jump ship_?” Killua couldn’t help it, he started to laugh. He hadn’t seriously thought that he could swim his way miles to the shore. 

Gon flushed at his reaction. “You- but you said!” 

“I didn’t mean that, idiot,” he coughed out between laughs. Just like he’d thought, something only a brainless person would do. “Do that again and I’ll break the door down.”

Gon just pouted. He pulled his other hand out from behind his back, shoving the bundle there out towards Killua without looking at him. 

“What’s that?” 

“Clothes,” Gon replied. 

Killua eyed the fabrics. The shirt was blue, not unlike the color he was wearing then, only it seemed to be made of fine silk and seemed to be the flowy style of clothes the pirates wore. The pants were light, almost white, and made of a thick material synched towards the top. 

Killua noticed that Gon had changed his clothes as well. His cotton patchwork attire from the previous day was replaced with a more intricate combination of a light shirt, a green vest, and stripped pants. 

“What’s this ugly stuff for?” Killua asked, raising an eyebrow. If he were honest, nothing sounded better than changing into a clean set of clothes, but he didn’t need Gon thinking he was grateful. 

“If you go to the port dressed like that you’ll blow our cover in an instant,” Gon told him seriously. “These belonged to someone who won’t need them, so they won’t be missed.” Gon held the clothes out farther in a gesture for Killua to take them.

Hesitantly, he grabbed the fabrics. The silk slid between his fingers, cool to the touch. “You’re going to take me to the port?” Killua asked hesitantly. 

“You’ll stay with me and go to the event I’m attending while everyone else goes to the auction.” Gon explained quickly. “Everyone will smell you a mile away if you look like that.”

Killua considered this and sat the clothes down on a stool behind him. “You don’t want me alone or too close to the action.” 

Gon put a finger to his nose. “Bingo!” 

“Get out then,” Killua said indignantly when Gon just continued to stare in the doorway. “I have to change.” 

Gon’s eyes went wide in surprise like he hadn’t considered that. “Oh! Okay!” He turned to leave, then paused and turned his head back to Killua. “I have a good feeling about this!” He said cheerily. Killua still had bedhead, an empty stomach, and crook in his neck that reminded him he was a prisoner on a pirate ship. Needless to say, he did not have a good feeling about this. 

“Says you,” Killua grumbled. 

Gon grinned. “Yup. Says the captain!”


	2. Chapter 2

Gon stood in front of the thin wooden plank connecting the ship to the port on the high railing. It hadn’t taken long after Killua emerged on deck for land to quickly come into view, and now the crew who were leaving the ship were all assembled and ready, facing Gon. 

He looked out amongst them, and they all seemed to be waiting for his word. Standing above everyone with his hands on his hips, he looked untouchable. The crew staring at him with patience and respect made Killua shift uneasily, like he was witnessing something he had no business being a part of. 

“You all know what I’m going to say,” Gon finally spoke up. His face rearranged into a mischievous smile. “Don’t die. The ship sails at dusk.” There was a thick fog in the morning air, which somehow made the silence of the crew more oppressive. The ship didn’t even dare creak. Gon’s voice rang out into the space like a final ruling. 

“The auction will be taking place from noon on, so that gives us plenty of time. You all know where to find the Watchers if anything goes wrong. Take whatever you can.” Gon opened his fists, small but powerful waves of Nen emanating from them. “I don’t have to tell you what’s at stake.”

Gon raised a single hand, the Nen pulling together to create a fiery ball of energy, licking to life with each moment that passed. The crew raised their fists into the air around Killua too, their weapons clutched in their palms. 

“At night,” Gon started, his voice ringing out, “the stars will lead us, in the morning, the sun will shine on us,” the voices of the crew and Gon mingled together in the odd chant, growing in resolve with every word. “And when the two meet we will take back what we have lost!” All the voices cut off in sync at the last word, their weapons still raised in the air, the odd, heavy silence returning. 

Then Gon released his Nen energy into the air, the sound firing off like a canon. Before Killua could process all the commotion, the entire crew was yelling at the top of their lungs, hollering and howling. All Killua could do was stand there in shock as his ears started to ring from the ferocity of the sudden chaos. Then Gon looked down from the sky and his eyes met Killua’s, burning with something Killua understood immediately to be vengeance. For what, he had no idea. Then, in an instant, the sound died to nothing again and Gon turned away, dropping out of view from the railing as everyone started to surge towards the plank to the dock. 

Everyone who heading to the port made their way off the ship, pushing past Killua to follow behind Gon. The other crew members, who were to stay with the ship, returned to their tasks as if nothing had happened. 

Something poked into Killua’s back, making his spine arch in discomfort. He stumbled forward and turned his head, only to see Kurapika staring back at him with a strange wooden weapon pointed out toward him. 

“You’re meant to be following Gon,” he said shortly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Killua griped back at him. “Follow Gon, like everyone else. I get it.”

Kurapika took a step forward, his weapon coming closer to Killua as he did so. “And just what do you mean by that?” 

Killua pinched his mouth into a tight line. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“There you are Killua!” Gon appeared behind him almost like he was summoned. “Sorry, I got a little carried away and forgot about you.”

“Forgot,” Killua parroted, still staring at Kurapika. 

Gon swiveled his head to look between them. “Is everything alright?” 

“Peachy,” Kurapika replied evenly, putting his weapon back behind his back. “I’ll be with Leorio.” He eyed Killua and nodded to Gon before turning his back and disappearing into the thick fog.

Killua raised an eyebrow. “How do you always do that?”

“Do what?” 

“Sneak up out of nowhere.”

“Not nowhere,” Gon told him. He pointed upwards, then shook the ropes still in his hands. “From the masts.”

Killua stared at him. He wondered again if Gon was an excellent liar or if he was just an idiot. 

Gond dropped the ropes in favor of putting his hands on his hips and turned back to the board connected to the dock. “Thought I’d lost you for a minute there!” He bounded forward, the plank shuddering slightly under their weight. 

“Not everyone just wants to trail behind you, you know,” Killua muttered after him in a snarky voice. 

It must have caught Gon’s attention, because he turned around the face Killua squarely. 

“What?” Killua huffed, looking unsteadily over the edge of the precarious bridge that separated them from falling into the sea below. 

“I don’t ever expect anyone to follow me,” Gon told him seriously. 

Killua rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you the captain, captain?” He faked a salute for emphasis. “Plus, everyone does. Follow you.”

“The way I see it I’m going where I’m going either way. I don’t expect anyone to follow me.” He said it again, like that should be the end of the conversation. “I don’t expect you to either, so if you don’t I’ll just make you.” 

Gon’s determination hung in the air again, as palpable as the low cloud covering. Killua could hear the port, it was all but impossible not to. People were yelling into the streets, carts rattled around, and the waves crashed against something like a seawall. Yet Gon managed to look at Killua like all his senses were honed in to his every move, his very breath. It went unspoken between them that Gon meant more than following him off the ship. He meant he fully intended for Killua to be at his side coming back at dusk and leaving with them from the port, despite his plans to run. Killua became acutely aware of just how heavy Gon’s full attention rested on him, his skin prickling the longer he held his gaze. 

Getting away from him might be harder than he thought. 

“Let’s go already,” Killua said shortly. Gon’s eyes were making him feel just a little too seen. Gon blinked back at him, his face shifting into a more neutral and easy-going expression. 

“Right!” He agreed. Killua shoved his hands in his pockets and pushed past where Gon still stood. Let Gon follow him for a change. 

The port was nothing short of overstimulating. If Killua had thought the sounds had been loud before, being in the throws of the vendors and traffic was even worse. The street was lined with vendors that displayed every color on their flags and set up, all of them demanding attention at once. As close as the vendors were there was little room for walking that was made even less so by the sheer amount of people. The voices of the people passing by all blended together in a murmur overlapped with the shop owners calling out their deals or specials. 

“Fruit cups!”

“The finest dresses at the finest prices!”

“A fortune for luck and success!” 

“Rare beads from the farthest lands!”

The overwhelming sensation of all of it nearly caused Killua to lose his balance on the uneven cobblestone underfoot. All of Gon’s crew must have already blended into the masses, which wouldn’t be difficult considering the sheer amount of people. 

A cart whizzed by Killua, close enough that the tailwind caused his loose-fitting sleeve to swoosh along with the breeze. 

“Watch it, kid!”

That tore him out of his haze. “You watch it!” He hollered back. 

Another surprising thing about the crowds was the diversity in all the different people. He saw people with hairstyles, clothes, jewelry, and accessories from cultures he had never seen before. One woman with skin as dark as night passed by him wearing the most vibrant colors of beads fashioned into a dress he had ever seen. He knew very little of sewing or beadwork, but he knew something like that wouldn’t be easy to come by. 

He saw people who wore little to nothing at all and people who were covered from head to toe, both commanding the attention of everyone they walked by. Killua didn’t know if there was a time in his life where he had ever been surrounded by so many people who contrasted each other so starkly, yet all managed to complete a vibrant and amazing picture. 

And then there were the smells. He had grabbed bread before leaving the ship to quell his hunger, but now he was hit full force with so many savory and sweet smells that he feared his stomach would start to grumble again. He followed his nose by a few vendors that seemed to sell only a variety of sweets and baked goods. He swallowed thickly and kept moving by. 

Something caught his attention in the corner of his eye. He turned against the flow of people, some of theme turning to give him disgruntled looks, and poked his head out to watch. He saw two children running after a ball, one stumbling ahead and the other right on his tail. They laughed loudly and disappeared from Killua’s view, but he found his feet were already moving on their own to follow them. 

Something about the interaction felt… familiar. Like the wisps of a dream after you’ve woken up and can’t remember. It wasn’t the same sensation as the pounding in his head when he tried to remember his family or his home, it was more just like something that had slipped away a long time ago. Like if he could just think about it, he might be able to grab onto it. 

He followed the kids a turned into an alley, but they were already gone again, not even the echo of their laughter remaining. Killua blinked into the vacant space and tried to remember what had made the memory seem so important. 

Killua stiffened and sharpened his senses instantly at the sound of footsteps behind him. He was already in motion, reaching for the knives in his pocket and in one swift motion, he had the newcomer pinned to the wall. It took his mind a second to catch up with the rest of him, but when it did, he realized the person who had snuck up on him was none other than Gon. 

He said nothing. His forearm was pressed against Gon’s chest and he held his sleek, black throwing knife backwards in his hand so that it was pressed against Gon’s neck. The pressure caused the sharp edge to cut just slightly into the thin skin on over Gon’s throat, a singe drop of blood trialing down his Adam’s apple. Still, Gon didn’t flinch away. His face remained unreadable and he held Killua’s gaze steadily. 

“I would do it,” Killua threatened. 

Gon pressed forward, pushing the knife deeper into his own skin until the droplet turned into a thin streak running down over his collarbone and beneath his shirt. It brought their faces so close together that they shared the same air, close enough that Killua could smell the faint scent of the polish they used to upkeep the wood on the ship. Gon searched over Killua’s face, pausing for a moment before meeting his eyes again. 

“Would you?” Gon breathed. Killua felt it then, the cool press of steel against his abdomen. He didn’t need to look down to know Gon had pulled his own weapon without him noticing. They didn’t move, neither of them ready to back down. 

“There you are,” a voice seethed from down the alley. 

Gon’s arm swung up, knocking Killua’s elbow enough to give him room to slip out of his hold. Gon turned his side to Killua, putting himself between him and whoever else had spoken. Killua’s knife nearly clattered to the ground, but Gon reached his hand out to catch it. That could only mean he hadn’t wanted the sound to carry. He had seen Gon around Kurapika enough to know he would never react that way to someone he recognized. He couldn’t be sure, but he got the impression that Gon didn’t want whoever else was in the alley to know they were there. 

“Had some trouble finding you,” another deeper voice added. Killua recognized neither of them. 

“Didn’t know you were looking,” someone else replied evenly. “I’m only expected by the rest of my crew.”

“We think you’ll make an exception.”

“Oh?”

“We have intel on something that won’t be at the auction. And we have it on good authority it’s something you want.” 

Killua didn’t trust the way they said it. Something seemed off about whatever was going on between the three people they couldn’t see. If this turned into a fight, he wasn’t sure how he’d get out without being caught for listening. Gon too for that matter, if he gave them away. 

“The suspense is killing me,” the man said, his voice mocking. 

“We know of a person with a set of eyes.” The original voice spoke this like it was a prize, something to be praised for. 

A set of eyes? Was it some kind of code? Killua had no idea what he could be referring to, but he noticed Gon’s shoulders tense out of the corner of his eye. So it meant something. 

“That’s right. And word on the street is they’ll be out of this port before high noon.”

“I’m to guess they aren’t exactly up for sale?” 

A pause. “No, I wouldn’t say so.”

“Why are you telling me this? If you know I want the eyes, you must know who I am.”

“All for a price, of course.”

Gon had practically started to vibrate. Whatever they were talking about was something Gon knew about. A pirate related item? Killua looked at Gon, who was staring straight forward like his sheer will power would put the other men into their view, and he considered the option of running away. If he tried now, he wasn’t sure what would happen. 

“We should go somewhere more,” the voice hesitated, “private.” 

Gon seemed to stop breathing. The sound of receding footsteps echoed through the alley way. Gon whipped his head back to Killua, who had started to back away, and then back to down the alley. The slightly disheveled look on his face gave away his thoughts. His options were to keep Killua from running away or to chase after the men who knew things about eyes. They both knew it. 

Then he turned and took off in a sprint down the alley way without a second glance, disappearing into the fog. Killua blinked in surprise. 

“That easy, huh?” He said to no one in particular. He sheathed his knife and picked the second one up from where Gon had dropped it, slinging it around his finger before slipping it back into the folds of his waistband. 

He took off into a jog and headed back out of the alley way onto the main street. The action hadn’t died down, and he still wasn’t prepared to be in the throws of so much commotion. Killua slowed his pace as he got to the more crowded area of the street, and then he stopped completely. People pushed around him, jostling his arms as they grumbled at him to move. 

The smile slipped from Killua’s face as a realization hit him: he was at a port that could take him anywhere in the world, and he had nowhere to go. 

Standing there in the street, even out of the grasp of the pirates, Killua felt more trapped than ever. Not only that, but he had no money to pay for a ship to take him to a destination, even if he had one. The pressing in Killua’s brain returned as he tried to think of someone, anyone, that he could contact. A family member? If he had any, that would be the smart thing to do. 

And yet even as he stopped trying to remember specifics and the pressure in his head resided, a tight feeling of dread remained in his stomach at the thought. He knew his name, he could probably do research and find out at least something useful about his family. The twisting in his stomach worsened. 

So not the family route, then, he thought to himself. That was out of the question. He could steal something for the money, or work for his keep on a ship. But how was that any different than what he was doing on Gon’s ship? At least they might know something about his memories. 

Killua groaned loudly. There was plenty he didn’t like about the pirates, and he didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them. But would that change any if he was on someone else’s ship? He supposed not. 

“Damn it,” Killua cursed to himself. Just as Killua started to look over his shoulder and back down the alley way in contemplation, a force hit his body and his world went black. 

Killua came to before Gon did. He had no idea how long he had been out for when he jolted awake and sat up in the cell, but it couldn’t have been longer than half a day judging from the sunlight still creeping into the room. His hands shot instantly to his sides, only to find the familiar grip of his throwing knives to be missing. He scanned the cage, which was a metal incasing surrounding them that was made out of a material with a strange gray hew. Killua’s eyes flicked down to Gon, who was still slumped on the ground and drooling. He nearly rolled his eyes. 

Then he looked around the rest of the room, finding nothing of interest besides one door and a man he had never seen staring at him from the corner.

He had skin as pale as Killua’s and flaxen hair with slight features that were pinched into a tight scowl. Killua figured he could take this one guy and carry Gon if he hurried before anyone came back. He gathered his aura around him, blue crackling to life and spitting out of him dangerously. He attempted to punch through the cell, but he instantly felt his power dissipate. He frowned and stared down at his limbs. Yup, definitely not glowing. 

“Don’t even bother,” the man spat. Killua recognized that voice; it was one of the men from the alley way. So whoever those guys were had been setting a trap for Gon; otherwise, Killua realized they would have had no reason to come back and capture him too. They had known all along they were in that alley. Killua stared back at him silently. 

“There’s Nen in the bars of the cell that will stop you from using your abilities to break through.”

He sat back down and decided not to test what the man said. Even if he was lying, using anymore Nen could drain him enough to make the rest of the escape attempts futile. He was still trying to think through a better solution when Gon finally started to stir. He let out a low moan and rubbed the back of his head, blinking his eyes open slowly. 

At the sign of Gon waking up, the man pushed himself off the wall and left through the door. 

“Do you know them?” Killua whispered as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. Gon gave him a puzzled look. 

“Know who?” 

Killua’s eye twitched. “The people who, oh, I don’t know, kidnapped us?” 

A loud quiet rumbling vibrated the floor beneath them. 

“Th next item is one you’ve all been waiting for!” A voice roared, muted through the floorboards. The loud sound erupted again, and this time Killua placed the sound as applause of thousands of people. Gon and Killua looked at each other. 

“The auction?” Gon said dumbly. 

The door to the room burst open and swung all the way back on it’s hinges until it hit the wall with a loud crack. A tall, large bellowed man sauntered into the room, his beady eyes fixed on Gon. One of his legs hit the floor unevenly and ungracefully, like he had an old injury there. Even so he moved with the confidence of someone who sat in an office all day and ordered other people around to do his dirty work. Killua disliked him instantly, and not just because of his horrible fashion sense resulting in the over sized pirate hat perched on his otherwise unruly head of peppered hair. 

“Well,” he said smartly, putting his hands to rest on his large belt. “If it isn’t Captain Twelve. Fancy meeting you here.”

Gon’s looked back at the man, his face unreadable. Killua wondered again if he recognized these people. Whoever they were clearly knew Gon, since he wasn’t denying being who they said he was.

“You,” the large man said, pointing at Killua, “I have no clue who you are. Such a bother.” 

Killua raised an eyebrow. “Guess we’re even then, old man. Wish I could say it was a pleasure.”

The man came up to the bars, his smiling falling into something closer to disgust. Up this close, Killua could see the wrinkles and scars lining his face. “What you shouldn’t do is make me angry, see. I’ve got a real temper.” 

“What’s this all about?” Gon spoke up impatiently. 

The man leaned back away from Killua slowly to shift his gaze back to Gon. “Nothing more than a friendly bargain between the competition.” He smiled a greasy smile. “Your crew pays me their haul from the night, and I let you live.”

“That will never-”

“And then,” the man said forcefully, cutting Gon off, “they give me the compass, and I’ll give them you. Not so hard, right?”

Gon hesitated. “The compass?” 

The man’s smile widened. “You’re not the only one who wants to go where it leads.” He spread his arms up wide, making a teasing face. “Even guys like me want a wish.” 

“And the eyes?” Gon asked.

The man let out a laugh. “You really are as stupid as they say. A collector like you should know no one’s so much as seen a pair in years.” 

Killua could swear he saw some of the tension leave Gon’s back and shoulders. 

“My crew won’t pay you,” Gon told him. 

He shrugged, backing away from the cage. “Then you die here.” He paused only once he was standing in the doorframe, the other man nearly bumping into him when he stopped. He turned back, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “We’ll be in touch, Twelve.” The door slammed shut behind him. 

Gon looked over at him curiously. Killua could hear the auction still going on somewhere beneath them, though the noise level had quieted down substantially. 

“Want to tell me what’s going on here?” Killua said, his voice just a little too clam and his stare a little too even. 

Gon scrunched his eyebrows. “I’m not really sure where to start.” 

“How about you start with the part where you got tricked into getting both of us captured.” Killua said rudely. “What the hell is all this business with the eyes, anyway?” 

Gon shot over to him and put his hand over his mouth. Killua eyes widened in humiliation and before he could think better of it, he slung his neck forward, knocking his forehead into Gon’s. 

“Ow!” He yelped, shooting a glare at Killua. “You can’t say that too loud!” 

“They already know, idiot,” Killua countered. 

Gon shushed him. “They know I was looking for the eyes a while ago, maybe,” Gon said lowly, checking over his shoulder that the door was still closed. “It’s a long story, but Kurapika has all the eyes. He has for years.”

Killua let it sink in. “So when they said they knew someone who had some-”

“I thought they might have been onto him.” 

“So you chased after them without a plan and that’s what got us captured,” Killua finished sarcastically. “That clears it right up.”

Gon rolled his eyes. “I had to be sure!” 

“And what about that stupid compass?” Killua pressed, thinking about what the man had said. “That’s taking you somewhere?” 

“More or less.” 

Killua considered how the man had said he wanted a wish. Something tugged at the back of his mind suddenly, the pressure coming back in full force as words appeared in inky script in his mind. His vision blotted over as the pain increased, forcing Killua to let out a sharp hiss as he grabbed the side of his head in pain. Sound started to fade away. Who was next to him, again? Killua thought he recognized the voice, but it was far away, so distant that it was hard to tell. Was something touching him? Something warm brushed against his cheek, which had gone cold as the blood drained from his already pale face. Whatever this warm thing was, it was nice. He pulled his hands away from his head and chased the spot of heat, leaning into the direction of it. It helped ease the pain to focus on the contact. 

Slowly, the buzzing in his head started to subside. The dark, spotty aura prickling over his eyes started to fade away with it. He blinked, his senses coming back to him slowly. Killua could feel his back against something solid but couldn’t remember hitting the ground. The ringing in his ears faded enough to hear someone saying his name.

“Killua?” They whispered, panic lacing the sound. Who was saying his name like that? Killua blinked again, reaching up to rub his eyes. Hazel and green stared back at him from above. Above? Killua jolted upright, smacking their foreheads together again, accidentally this time. Killua made a sound that might have been a swear or a growl as Gon pushed him forcefully back into his lap, his eyebrows scrunching together stubbornly. 

“Hang on a second, will you?” He ordered. Killua stiffened. His back was resting in Gon’s lap, with Gon’s other hand pressed against the side of his face. An involuntary shiver travelled down his spine; he hadn’t realized he had given himself the chills. 

“Greed island.” As soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth the pain threated again from his temples.

“Don’t say it again!” Gon yelped. 

Killua obeyed that time. “I think I just remembered something,” he said unhelpfully. 

Gon nodded. “Lot of good that did you.”

Killua groaned and pushed himself up, slower this time, and glared daggers at Gon when he tried to stop him again. “Stop touching me, already,” he huffed. 

“You did it!” 

“Did not.”

“Did to! You started to look all droopy and even paler than usual, which is weird because I’ve never even seen anybody as pale as you are, and when I tried to see if you had a temperature, you just flopped into my lap!” 

Killua could feel his cheeks heating up. “Don’t say that, it’s embarrassing.” 

“Well don’t hurt yourself remembering anything else, then.” Gon puffed out his cheeks. 

“If you just told me from the start that wouldn’t have happened,” Killua accused. “So just tell me what’s going on already. Why you want to go… there.” He tried carefully, testing out his limits. 

“Right. Fine.” He nodded. “I need to get to Greed Island to ask for something that can’t be done. It’s no big deal for pirates to go looking for it, for wishes and things, but it’s impossible to find. Or it would be, for someone without a compass.” 

Killua listened thoughtfully. Gon sure left out a lot of the details, but at least he was getting something out of him. Something that can’t be done. Yeah, super helpful. 

“The thing is,” Gon lowered his voice again, bringing his head closer to Killua. “There’s been a lot of strange things happening lately. Currents and storms and things that no one can explain. All the fisherman think it’s Greed Island, like something’s wrong with it.” 

Killua pulled a face. “Some old coots think something is wrong with a magic island that may or may not be real because of some extra storms? Really?” 

Gon reached out and flicked Killua’s forehead. “It’s serious! Unexplainable things!” 

“So what? You’re going to sail your ship in the direction of a compass and hope you get there in time? Gon, this doesn’t make any sense. How do you even know the compass is going the right way?” 

Gon tilted his head up slightly in resolution. “I just know.” 

Killua groaned. “You hear yourself, right?” 

“Killua,” Gon said, his voice unwavering. “I made an oath of love and paid for it in blood. I have to get to Greed Island.” 

He couldn’t explain it, but something about Gon had switched. He didn’t look like the kid on the ship who bounced around and laughed easily. Whatever he was saying, whatever he had done, it sounded like someone else. 

“Okay,” Killua said, drawing out the word. “So you have to get there.” 

“Right.” Gon’s eyes shifted slightly, light filtering them back to a deep shade of honey. “And we need you to get us there at the speed of light!”

Oh yeah. He had already almost forgot that Gon thought he could power a whole ship with his Hatsu. He weighed his options. Compared to any other time, at least Gon didn’t currently have a way to kill him if he told him that he couldn’t help even if he wanted to. Something selfish twinged in his chest. Gon was looking at him like he was important, like he needed him. It almost made him wish that…

Killua let out a puff. “Oh that?” He said lightly, waving a hand in the air. “Listen, even if I wanted to help you, I can’t. You’ve got it all wrong about my Hatsu. Even if I could use Sho over a whole ship, and I’m not saying that I could, I don’t know that it would work.” 

“Okay.” 

Killua choked on air and stared at Gon. “What do you _mean_ ‘okay’? What kind of response is that?”

Gon shrugged.

“You abducted me for my Hatsu and you don’t even care that I can’t use it to help you? Maybe I’m lying or something.” 

“You’re not though,” Gon stated back to him, not even a hint of a question in his voice. 

Killua hesitated, searching Gon’s face. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but Gon’s expression hadn’t changed. He didn’t even look disappointed. “No,” Killua agreed. “I’m not.”

“Okay.” Gon said again. “It was always a wild card. I’ll still get there. Plus, once I teach you to run the sails it’ll help ease the work load and we’ll go at least a little faster.” 

“ _Huh_?” 

Gon looked at him and cocked his head to the side in a question.

“I never said I would do that.”

The green haired man just blinked back at him like he didn’t understand what Killua was trying to say. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, _Captain Twelve_ , you can’t give me orders.” Killua said, waving his hands at the bars for dramatic effect. “I’m not your prisoner anymore.”

“Then why didn’t you run?”

“ _What_?” Killua blurted, even though he knew exactly what Gon was asking him. 

“I left you. In the alley,” Gon clarified, watching him in that intense way again. 

Killua couldn’t say it. He wouldn’t say it. He pushed his chin out. Maybe he wouldn’t say it, but he didn’t need to. Gon was sharper than he let on, it seemed. 

Gon dipped his head lower, back into Killua’s space. “Together, then,” he breathed. 

And Killua wouldn’t agree to it. He wouldn’t act like his heart sped up at the thought of having somewhere to go back to. He wouldn’t so much as nod. 

Just when he started to feel the discomfort of holding still for so long, Gon sat up straight, putting distance between them again. Killua breathed a little easier. 

“First we have to get out of this cell.” He turned his head upwards and then around the sides. Gon reached his hands out and grasped the bars, flexing his fingers experimentally to check for damage. “What is this stuff?” 

“The bars are made of Nen, I think,” Killua explained. “When I tried to break them earlier it just made my aura disappear.” 

Gon balled his hand into a fist and swung at the cage. It didn’t even so much as rattle against his attempts, even as Gon’s skin broke open from the force of his punch. 

Killua grabbed his fist before Gon could make contact with their cage again. “It’s not going to work, give it a rest.”

“There has to be some way,” Gon said desperately. He turned his head back to the window that let the light into the room, which had shifted more deep orange tones than before. 

“We have until dusk?” Killua asked uncertainly. Gon nodded, pulling his lips back into a tight line and letting his head fall back to rest against the side of the cage. Then he frowned. 

“Killua,” Gon questioned. 

“What now?” 

“There’s a roof to this cage.” 

“So?” Killua gave Gon an unimpressed side eye. The man ignored him, standing up to his full height. Killua’s eyes widened as he realized Gon was starting to gather his aura around him, not unlike he had done that morning. He watched as Gon crouched slightly, pulling his arms back to his side as his aura burst into all the colors of the sun. 

“What are you doing?” Killua hissed. “That won’t work!”

Gon continued on, the air in the room starting to move as though a strong wind had blown around them as Gon’s power started to build up. Killua heard footsteps approaching and jumped to his feet, frantically looking at the door. 

“Whatever you’re going to do, do it quick!” 

Gon screamed words that Killua didn’t quite catch as three things happened at once. The door to the room burst open, the old pirate storming into the room flanked by the man from before and someone else. Then, Gon’s power exploded, colliding against something that started to splinter around them, obscuring Killua’s vision of anything other than the bright flash of the aura. And last, the floor gave out beneath his feet. 

Falling felt like an eternity. One moment there was solid beneath his feet, and the next his hair was whipping around his face as he plummeted downward. His heartrate picked up in a panic as he realized he was still facing upwards and he couldn’t see the ground. 

Then Killua’s back connected with the ground and pain blossomed throughout his body. Debris continued to fall loudly around him for another moment until the entire floor they had previously been standing on was lying around them in a disheveled mess. Killua heard Gon groan from somewhere nearby. 

He flung a board off his body and fought his way to his feet, shaking the rest of the mess off his head and out of his hair. 

Only then did he turn around, expecting Gon, and instead met thousands of wide pairs of eyes, all staring back at him. Killua froze. In his peripheral vision he could see more boards flying up as Gon struggled out from underneath them, finally standing up to his full height next to Killua. 

Killua looked murderously over at him, watching as realization dawned on his face. Gon had punched through the floor and sent them flying right into the auction. Gon looked from side to side. He smiled broadly at the still silent audience. Then, in one fluid movement, he plucked the orb on the large display podium off its stand, tucked it under his arm, and sprinted off into the side wings. 

Then chaos erupted. 

“Don’t let those men get away!” The old man bellowed from the floor above, the sound ricocheting off the walls in the large auditorium. A loud thud resounded only a moment after as the man with light hair hit the ground, already coming full speed at Killua. Everyone in the audience seemed to jump into action at once. 

“Gah!” Killua raged, flinging himself after Gon. The entire audience started to yell, storm the stage, or stampede towards the exit. He left the roaring behind him and followed Gon off the stage, ducking down a back hallway labeled with an exit sign overhead. 

Gon crashed through a side door, throwing all of his body weight and momentum against it. It broke open with the unpleasant sound of splintering wood and Gon and Killua jumped through and into the chill of the evening. If the sun had been setting before, it was all but dark now. 

The street vendors were no less populated this late in the day. All the vendors were light with candles or colorful lanterns, giving the main street a sort of ethereal glow. Killua supposed it might have been enchanting if he weren’t bulldozing through it behind a crazed thief with a pirate and his goons hot on their trial. 

“What in the hell have you _done_?” Killua yelled, jumping over a pile of goods on the pathway. 

Gon narrowly dodged a child, who let out a scream, and hollered back over his shoulder, “I’m not sure what you mean!” 

Killua let out a frustrated grunt and ducked out of the way of a banner hanging from the side of a vendor. “Why you-” Killua’s words died in his throat as he nearly stumbled full speed into a stranger, pulling himself upright just in time to right himself and catch a glimpse of Gon’s green head bobbing in the crowd. 

“I see them!” 

“The white haired one is right up there!” 

“Damn it,” Killua cursed, speeding back up as quick as he could manage in the crowd. He chanced a glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, the men from before and a few new pursuers were shoving their way through the people and gaining ground. Killua launched himself over a cart as it pulled into the street, landing unsteadily on his feet on the other side. 

“Watch it!” 

“So rude!”

“That was great!” Killua nearly jumped out of his skin at Gon’s voice so close to him. He whipped his head to the side and saw Gon running next to him. 

His face was glowing. There was no other way to describe the grin that lit up all his features, or the way his eyes looked back lit when they caught the light of the street. There was a flush on his cheeks from the running or the chill setting in with the night, but either way the effect was the same. 

Killua tripped over an uneven cobblestone and fumbled forward. He righted himself in time to keep stride with Gon, but he heard him break out into a fit of laughter anyway.

“Your face, Killua!” He wheezed. 

“Don’t let them get to the docks!” Someone behind them yelled furiously. 

The vendors started to thin out as they made it to where all the ships were in port. Killua had no idea which one was the right one, and the lack of light didn’t help, so he stuck closely to Gon and hoped for the best. 

“Killua,” Gon said between heavy breaths, “we’re going to have to jump.” 

“ _What_?” 

“The ship! It’s moving away from the dock!” 

Killua squinted his eyes to and willed them to adjust. The quicker they approached the piers that jutted out onto the ocean, the better Killua could see one ship lit with torches in the distance. He heard the far away sound of whooping and hollering as they came closer into view, no doubt as the crew recognized Gon sprinting for all the heavens. The plank that had connected the ship to he dock was nowhere in sight. 

“I said don’t let them get onto that ship!”

Had the other pirates managed to get so close already? He had been sure they would have gotten lost in the thick of the crowd. 

“Gon,” Killua said uncertainly, looking over his shoulder at the small cluster of angry, armed people on their heels. 

“We’re almost there!” Gon yelled back, pumping his arms faster. 

Killua felt something swipe the back of his shirt. He didn’t dare turn around and see what it was, he just willed himself to push on faster. The water clashing in waves around them made it dangerous to activate Godspeed, so he set his eyes on the ship and ran for his life. 

All too soon they were running out of wood under their feet. 

“Now!” Gon bellowed, launching himself from the edge and kicking his legs out as he soared through the air. Before he had a chance to think, Killua was copying his movements and propelling himself off the dock and towards the railing of the ship. 

He heard the roars of the crew as Gon thudded onto the deck, but Killua could tell he hadn’t accounted for the ship’s movement when he jumped. He could tell he wasn’t going to make it. He flailed his arms wildly in the hopes to watch anything before he inevitably landed in the throws of the open ocean.

And then he stopped falling. 

Killua looked down. He was dangling above the churning sea, suspended in the air. He turned his head up.

Gon grinned down at him. “Thought you said you wouldn’t jump ship.” 

Killua couldn’t help it; the corners of his own lips quirked up into a smile to match Gon’s. “You would too if you met the captain.” 

He felt a pull on his arm as Gon swung him over the side. He landed on the deck on his back, ungracefully, and let himself slump all the way down until he was sprawled out. 

“Twelve!” A man cried out over the ocean in defeat and anger. The crew erupted into laughter and broke into a song that Killua didn’t recognize. 

“ _For broadside, for broadside  
They fought all on the main  
Blow high! Blow low! And so we sailed we  
Until at last the frigate  
Shot the pirate’s mast away  
A-sailing down along  
The cost of High Barbary!_

 _For quarters, for quarters!  
The saucy pirate cried  
Blow high! Blow low! And so we sailed we  
The quarters that we showed them  
Was to sink them in the tide  
A-sailing down along  
The coast of High Barbary!_”

He didn’t mind. It sounded like victory. Gon flopped down next to him after singing along to the first verses. The rest of the crew continued about the deck, their song drifting and changing as people joined the melody or dropped the tune. He heard laughter and the sound of clanking metal cups as the ship opened sails and started to move swiftly away from the port. 

Gon stuck his arms out straight above him to examine the crystal ball he had swiped from the auction. At least it hadn’t broken in the chaos. 

“What is it?” Killua asked. 

Gon shrugged and tossed it to the side, letting it roll away from him along the deck. “Who knows.” 

Killua couldn’t even find it in himself to scold Gon, not with his heart still pounding in his ears and his heart still racing in his chest and the heat radiating off Gon warming him just enough. Back on the ship. He rested his head back on the ground and stared upwards. In the midst of everything happening, he hadn’t noticed how the fog from the morning had all but vanished, leaving behind a clear night sky. Killua had never seen so many stars shining back at him. 

“ _To see them all a-drowing  
As they tried to swim for shore  
A-sailing down along  
The coast of High Barbary!_”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh thank you all for your comments, kudos, and reads on chapter one! :) 
> 
> The shanty at the end of this chapter is 'the coast of high barbary' if you so wish to give it a listen!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This interaction was much shorter in my outline, but then I got in my feels while I was writing and now I need to split this chapter up :,) forgive me <3

The next few days fell into a routine, even though the very nature of the routine was the lack there of. Killua knew what to expect and adapted for it, and then the next thing he knew everything was shifting out from under him like the seas shifted constantly. His mornings were spent hiding from Kurapika as long as possible to avoid kitchen duty again, which always seemed to be his task if he was discovered early enough in the morning. 

Killua slipped out of his bunks early in the early hours before the sun rose and wandered about the other levels of the ship, the deck, or anywhere with the least amount of other people before breakfast. By the time Killua was hungry enough that he was willing to risk chores, he dipped into the kitchens to grab something to eat. 

Daytime was spent maintaining the ship. The rest of the crew knew how to do just about everything. Their movements and teamwork flowed so smoothly that by the time Killua noticed something needed to be done, three people were already there doing it. It made it hard to be useful, being tossed into a group of people who did nothing but sail together all day. To make matters worse, as soon as Killua thought he understood how something needed to be done, they would change course and be doing it a whole knew way. He realized begrudgingly it would take time to be able to move as effortlessly through tasks as everyone else. 

If there was one thing he could count on it was Kurapika waltzing over to him, somehow looking smug without meaning to, just to tell him that whatever he thought he was doing was completely wrong. 

“Gon changed our direction, we don’t need those sails untied anymore.” 

Killua would blink back as evenly as he could manage. “I’ve already undone them.” 

“Tie them back up,” Kurapika would say simply, already turning to leave. Waltzing in to ruin all his hard work and then waltzing back out. 

“Shall I go bother Leorio now?” Killua mocked, imitating Kurapika’s voice. “Or shall I be a menace elsewhere?” 

And so it went. His skin started to blister from sun exposure after two days in the sun, so he started to wear more clothes in an attempt to cover up from it. It helped slightly to cover the worst of it, but when the wind was at its worst the cloth would blow wildly around him and make it nearly impossible to keep anything protected from the harsh heat. At night, he would peel all the layers away gingerly and do his best to wash the open wounds with clean water. On the third day, though, it had done a little to help heal them. 

The crew still mostly ignored him. Some of them were worse than others. A few times he would catch a particularly strange person or two watching him, but they would look away quickly as soon as he caught them. Mostly everyone else just simply pretended like he wasn’t there. Even though he would never admit it, sometimes Killua cleaned the back on the ship for longer so that Leorio might open his big stupid mouth and start telling him things for no reason. 

He pretended not to be interested. 

The worst by far was dinner. Everyone gathered around the tables and told stories, sang songs, and spoke of what they would do once they got back to shore. Nothing changed from his first day on board; no one moved over to make room for him and the crowded tables. Killua ducked into the kitchens for dinner and immediately back out onto the deck. He had taken to eating his dinner out by the railing where he could watch the sun go down, all the colors reflecting off the ocean in a way that looked like a painting come alive. 

Killua scooped the last spoonful of his stew into his mouth, savoring the flavors even though the breeze had cooled the broth to luke-warm at best. Killua had his suspicions that the cook had taken to stealing spices from ports or other ships, because the food at every meal was nothing short of amazing and filling even considering their rations and resources. 

He sat the bowl aside and watched the oranges and yellows of the sky fade to pinks and purples as the sun dropped low over the water. He could hear the sound of laughter muffled by distance, but it didn’t sound like it was under the deck like usual. Killua turned his head away from the sea and squinted against the quickly fading light. 

Gon was standing over by the doorway that let out onto the deck, two other crew members in tow. He recognized them, he thought; one was Knuckle, the loud one that always seemed to be with the pink haired one. Killua wasn’t sure about the other man Gon was talking to, but he handed him and extra metal cup and slapped him on the back. 

Gon’s laughter rang out again, and Killua could hear them talking, but he couldn’t make out the words. Gon was probably the only person on the ship who treated him normally. Killua hadn’t seen much of him since the port, but then again no one seemed to. Gon was the center of attention when he was around, but most of the time he no where in sight. 

Out of nowhere, Gon looked over and pointed at Killua, still saying something to Knuckle. Killua could see Knuckle shake his head and wave his hands around, making the other man next to them laugh. Gon nodded and, with both cups in hand, started to stride over to him. 

“Killua!” He called. 

“What?” Killua responded skeptically, eyeing the two men still watching them from the deck. Gon held up the cup in his hand. 

“Ikalgo says you never take rum with dinner.” 

Killua nodded. “I don’t.”

Gon grinned. “Knuckle bet me a hundred jenny that it’s because you can’t hold your liquor.”

He really hadn’t taken rum with dinner because he didn’t know where the other pirates even got it from. Killua rolled his eyes. “He’s out of his mind, then.” Killua looked Gon over, his face more flushed than usual and his smile on the verge of a little too wobbly. “It looks like you might be the one who can’t hold his liquor,” Killua said with amusement. 

Gon shamelessly smiled wider, taking another long sip from the cup in his hand. “Better than you.” 

“I’m immune to poison.” Killua blinked his eyes wider as the words came out of his mouth. He couldn’t remember how he knew that, but it was true. Somehow, he was certain he couldn’t get drunk even if he tried. 

“Prove it,” Gon said, holding the cup in his other hand out to Killua. From what he could remember, he had never in his life tasted alcohol. The smirk on Gon’s face prompted him to take the cup anyway, and the challenge in his eyes prompted him to down the entire tin in one go of it. 

It tasted like fire in his throat. His insides curled at the heat and sting of it, but he forced himself to remain outwardly impartial. When he swallowed he tasted a hint of cinnamon on his tongue that lingered along with the burn. He tilted his head back and let out a loud burp to as punctuation. Killua heard a low whistle from Knuckle as he handed the empty cup back to Gon. 

“That was so cool, Killua!” Gon gushed, his eyes wide and watery. “But I’m on my fourth cup, so that’s no fair.” He stared at Killua, his eyebrows pulled together in thought. Then his face brightened. “You’ll just have to catch up!” 

Gon grabbed onto Killua’s shirt sleeve and started pulling him back towards the kitchens.

“Hey, cut that out,” Killua chided, trying to bat Gon off. He should have known by now that Gon would be surprisingly strong. 

“Tell him what you told me, Knuckle,” Gon hollered out, hauling him along until they stood right in front of them. Knuckle looked down at Killua, his broad shoulders and build towering over him. Killua knew who Knuckle was because he was always running around shirtless. Killua might not have thought twice about it if it weren’t for his own skin’s visceral reaction to constant UV rays. 

No one other than Gon, Leorio, and Kurapika had spoken to Killua. Even with Gon’s pestering, a silence hung in the air and Killua felt sure he would ignore him anyway. 

“Well I don’t think he’s got it in ’em.” Ikalgo said, breaking the tension. Gon let out a delighted noise and elbowed Killua in the side. 

“See!” 

Knuckle shifted. “No one downs a drink like that unless they’re asking to end up on the floor,” he said finally. 

Gon leaned his weight against Killua as he held his stomach and laughed more. “He said he could out drink us!” 

“I said I could out drink you,” Killua corrected, earning a snicker from the other two. 

“That’s nothing to be proud of,” Knuckle teased, taking another swig of the cup in his hand. Yelling erupted from farther down into the ship, easily audible from where they were by the stairway. 

“He’s only on his first drink, that’s not saying anything!” Gon whined. “He needs a few more if he’s going to take us on!” 

“You’re absolutely right, Gon,” Knuckle said. “I think this calls for a friendly round of Drunken Sailor.” Gon’s whole face lit up immediately. 

“Killua, we have to play!” Then he turned back to Knuckle, who was watching him with thinly concealed amusement. Whatever Knuckle was suggesting was most definitely a trap of some kind. “Do you think everyone will play this early?”

“Drunken Sailor,” Killua repeated. “That’s not exactly subtle.” 

“No one will say no to a game if Gon is going to play,” Ikalgo told the group. He seemed slightly less underhand about trying to rope them into a game than Knuckle, but not by much. 

“I’ll go ask them!” Gon announced, turning on his heel and marching down the stairs. Knuckle and Ikalgo hesitated, giving Killua a side-eye, before following after Gon down to the kitchens. Killua stood in the doorway and watched them go before turning back to look out at the ocean. Cheers erupted from down below, the sound filling the halls and echoing out onto the deck. He heard Gon’s loud, excited voice attempting to quiet them and say something else, but whatever it was he couldn’t make it out. 

He had nothing to compare it to, but one drink really didn’t feel like much of anything. If Gon’s reaction to a few cups was anything to go off of, maybe he really couldn’t get drunk. 

“Ki-lu-a!” Killua winced at Gon’s loud shout as he stumbled his way back onto the deck. 

“What?” Killua bristled as Gon grabbed onto his shirt again. 

“To outdrink you I need you to actually play, duh!”

“Wait, Gon-” Killua tried again as Gon continued to shoo him to the lower levels of the ship, “I don’t think that-”

“That’s what we do with a drunken sailor, early in the morning!” Gon sang loudly, right over the top of Killua’s protests. The two of them practically fell into the mess hall with Gon still shoving Killua, oblivious as ever, and Killua stuttering his excuses, trying to make his way back to the deck. 

The whole crew went quiet as they turned to stare at the two of them. Killua stared back, his eyes wide, but he was stuck in place with Gon draped lazily over his shoulder. Gon continued to hum his tune, not even noticing the awkward silence that had settled over the group. 

Then Knuckle started to hum the tune along with Gon. “Way hay and up she rises,” he sang, his voice deep in a way that made the sound rumble in his chest. 

“Early in the morning!” Gon shouted. Ikalgo pressed another drink into Killua’s hands, yelling the last bit along with Gon. Killua took the drink, but Gon started to sway and pulled his shoulder just enough to slosh some of the liquid out onto the floor. 

“He thinks he can outdrink us!” Gon hollered out into the group, leaning forward like he was telling them a grand secret. Killua wanted to slap him upside the head. There was another beat of silence where everyone stayed painstakingly quiet. 

“Not a chance in hell,” someone yelled from the back of the room. 

“I’ll bet my jenny he’s on the floor in three rounds!”

“I’ll say two!” 

Knuckle and Gon laughed as the others started to talk over each other again, the constant volume returning to what it normally was around this time. Killua had never been in the thick of it, but it was much funnier to see how everyone interacted than he imagined when he could only hear them. It completed the picture to watch Paku shove someone off the bench when they annoyed her too much, or even to see Kurapika resigned in the corner as everyone pestered him to participate. From the sounds he heard on the deck he could never have completed the picture the way it was now. 

The tight spot between Killua’s shoulders loosened. 

Gon turned back to him. “Once the singing starts if you mess up the words you have to finish your drink, and everyone drinks after ‘early in the morning’. If someone calls your name and you drop the tune you better just say your prayers!” He said loudly, attempting to be heard over the humming. “Got it?” 

Killua frowned. “Not at all.”

Leorio jumped onto the table he had been sitting at. “What do we do with a drunken sailor?” He sang out over the group. 

“What will we do with a drunken sailor?” Everyone joined together sloppily on the next line, “Early in the morning!” A pause, and everyone tilted their drink back. 

“Another, another!” Drinks passed around to the group as the song continued, speeding up with every verse. The cook was standing by a large barrel, filling cups as quickly as they were passed back her way. Gon elbowed Killua pointedly, raising his eyebrows and animatedly singing along. 

“Landlubber,” a man shouted from a table, his eyes trained directly on Killua. “If you can’t sing the words, you finish the drink.” 

Killua opened his mouth to quip back but Gon was already shoving his cup to his lips, laughing as he tilted it back just slightly. Killua made a sound in the back of his throat, swallowing quickly to catch up. By the time the drink was gone another was already in his hands. He turned his head back to the pirate who had made the insult, but the commotion had already started up again. 

“Put him in a long boat til he’s sober!” Everyone sang, and after a slap on the back from Knuckle, Killua was begrudgingly among them. “Put him in a long boat til he’s sober!”

“Early in the morning!” 

“Pokkle!” Leorio called out, still passing refilled cups of rum around the room. A short man with pink hair popped up over the commotion. 

“What do we do with a drunken sailor?” The crowd prompted. 

“Take that old rum bum back to his quarters!” Pokkle’s raspy voice sang. The crowd erupted into laughter and joined in to sing the line back together. 

Pokkle turned his head to the side, searching, before his eyes lit up. “Ponzu!” A girl sitting off to the side whipped her head around to Pokkle. “Take all his arrows, ’or they won’t shoot true,” she sang, earning a low whistle from someone else it the crowd. Someone thumped Pokkle on the back as the crowd repeated her line. Pokkle rolled his eyes and sank back down into the crowd as they continued to repeat Ponzu’s line. Gon laughed next to Killua. 

“Pokkle is an archer,” Gon told him, as if Killua couldn’t see the quiver strapped to Pokkle’s back, and then let out a hiccup. 

“Hanzo!” 

“Someone keep track of the landlubber’s drinks!” Killua shot a glare out into the crowd. 

“Ask him a secret, he’ll tell you the truth!”

The line continued as it was picked up by the crowd, but Killua turned back to Gon who had started to put substantially more weight onto his shoulders. He didn’t look too bad off, but the dopey smile that spread just a little too far across his face and his glassy eyes gave him away. 

“You feeling alright, Gon?” 

Gon lifted his head from Killua’s shoulder as the crowd cheered again, “early in the morning!” 

“Of course, Killua!” He went to lift his cup to his lips, but Killua reached out to swipe it. Gon frowned at him. “No fair!”

Killua downed the drink. “I wanted another,” he said with a shrug, watching Gon pout out of the corner of his eye.

“What do we do with a drunken sailor?” Someone Killua couldn’t see chose that moment to join the lyrics with a solo from the fiddle, adding a layer of depth to the song that helped the sailors carry the tune. Gon immediately straightened his back, pulled away from Killua, and stumbled over to the nearest table. 

Couldn’t he just sit down? 

“Gon!” Leorio started to chant, grabbing his arm to hoist him upwards onto the tabletop. Gon turned on his heel and flashed a wide smile, and then he started to move his feet. The group started to pound the table or stomp their feet along with the fiddle, escalating the beat until it was quicker and quicker. Despite being nearly incapable of standing up on his own a moment before, Gon moved expertly along with the song. He jumped, regained his balance, and continued his fancy footwork, his heels pounding along to the rhythm of the fiddle. The sailors cheered him on when he didn’t falter with the increasing tempo, and he raised his arms over his head dramatically, laughing all the while. 

Killua couldn’t help but become mesmerized as he watched. Gon seemed to radiate energy; his movements were nothing short of perfect, like he’d practiced his whole life, but it was more than that. He was engaging. Killua watched as Gon winked at Kurapika, who was on his way to pull him down from the table no doubt. Killua couldn’t help but laugh along with everyone else as Kurapika narrowed his eyes back at him. His whole face told the tale of the atmosphere around them, lively and jesting. The fiddle player ended the solo and all too quickly Gon was bowing before jumping down from the table.

He took no time bounding back over to Killua and slinging his arm around him again. “How was I?” He slurred. A thin layer of sweat that hadn’t been there before glistened on his skin, making him glow even brighter. 

“It was alright,” Killua allowed. “Where’d you learn that?” 

“The island I grew up on,” Gon said, a half-smile on his face. The room jumped back into the lyrics of the song, but Gon seemed absorbed in his memories. Killua waited. 

“We used to have dances and festivals during the fishing seasons,” Gon continued. “Everyone learned the dances when we were really little. We would spend weeks making decorations or things to sell on the streets, and everyone would come. There were competitions and things where you could win prizes, like shells or trinkets.” Gon’s eyes looked far away. Reminiscent, and maybe sad too. 

“Well? Did you win?” Killua asked when Gon had been silent a beat too long. 

“What?” He said, blinking and tilting his head up to look at Killua, like he’d forgotten he was there. “Oh! No, I never won. Believe it or not lots of people were always better than me.” 

“Killua!” He whipped his head around at the sound of his name. Ikalgo was pointing at him, and the lull in the song made him realize what he was about to have to do. 

Gon giggled against his side. 

Killua glared down at him. “Take his ship, his treasure, his crew,” Killua sang, pausing on the beat, “then float him ashore,” he punctuated his line by flicking Gon on the forehead. The crew exploded into drunken laugher, singing the line back thrice and goading Gon all the while. 

“Early in the morning!” 

Killua found an empty stool for Gon and intercepted all the drinks that somehow kept finding their way into his lap. Gon protested or just laughed, singing along with the song and having fun regardless. His strange mood from earlier seemed to have passed.

Eventually the singing became less forceful or teasing and more subdued as everyone had had their fun, ending in some people still singing along while others took to telling stories or simply listening. More than a few of the most involved players had long sense been forced to resign from the game and the drink, quieting the room substantially. Killua had no idea what time of night it was when everyone finally started to trickle out of the mess hall, but if his heavy eyelids were anything to go off of, it was late. 

A few pirates snickered at Killua on their way out of the ship, but it didn’t seem to be out of disgust so much as annoyance they had lost their bets. For all the rounds they had played, Killua was upright and lucid. After some a few repeats in the others had stopped forcing him to recount how many drinks he’d had and started to grumble their disbelief instead. 

“Next time we’ll give him a clap of thunder,” Knuckle said to Gon on his way out. 

Gon shot to his feet, stumbling instantly and nearly falling over. “A clap of thunder?”

“Wow there, buddy, not tonight,” Knuckle said, chuckling in amusement. “We’ll settle this score once we’ve all slept off our hangovers.” 

“I still think he was drinking grog,” Leorio muttered from his place on the bench. 

“Need a hand, Gon?” Ikalgo asked. “Or can you make it to your quarters?” 

“Killua will take me!” 

Killua scrunched his face. “I will?” 

Gon nodded his head back to Ikalgo. “He will!” Ikalgo hesitated in the doorway, looking between the two of them. Killua let out a sigh. 

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll take him.” 

Ikalgo continued on through the doorway, his eyes drooping with sleep and from being drunk. “Ok-ay,” he said. He saluted informally to Gon. “Captain.” 

Killua looked back at Gon once Ikalgo had gone, surveying the situation. He knew Gon was heavy; he had been leaning his weight on him all night. Gon looked larger than life most of the time, and now was no different, but he lacked his normal grace and coordination. His movements and expressions seemed to have dropped their usual intensity, leaving Gon’s more open demeanor behind. Ironically, he looked younger when he was drunk, without his usual inhibitions. 

“How far is it to where you sleep?” Killua asked him, eyeing the lopsided way he was propped against the wall.

“It’s in-” a hiccup, “the back of the ship.” 

“Of course it is,” Killua muttered to himself. “Alright, on your feet.” Killua hoisted Gon, situating Gon’s arm over his shoulders and back. “Here we go.” 

Gon managed to walk a good portion of the way along with Killua. Killua hadn’t spent much time in the halls on the lower levels of the ship where the rest of the crew slept, so he hoped he’d be able to find his way back out on his own. The walkways were narrow and lit only by one or two swinging candles, making the space feel even smaller than it was. He imagined that if Leorio slept here instead of on the deck with the compass he’d never be able to stand up straight without hitting his head. 

Like in his own sleeping space, the floorboards creaked under their weight and as they ship rocked underfoot. The sound of the rushing water wasn’t as obvious, though, so it was quieter than he had gotten used to. He was almost liked the sound, now, like the ticking of clock that’s always there but you eventually forget to hear it. Gon tugged on Killua slightly when they reached the end of the hall and approached a plain looking door. 

“This you?” Killua asked. 

“Yup!” Gon still managed not to sound as tired as he looked. He turned the doorknob and Killua resituated them so they could make it through the doorway.

Gon’s room was bare, all but nothing beside a neatly made bed, a dresser, and a desk littered with maps and half-burnt candles. Gon attempted to fall back onto his bed as soon as they entered the room, but didn’t account for being attached to Killua, and as a result they both went sprawling to the floor. Gon’s hand snatched out and onto Killua’s shirt as they fell, ripping away most of the material. 

“Ow,” Gon said lamely from the ground. 

“Don’t miss the bed next time, idiot,” Killua growled, feeling around for the edge of the desk to push himself back up. 

“Killua,” Gon said urgently, sitting up quickly. 

“What?” 

He turned and saw Gon holding the cloth from his shirt in his hands, studying it in the dim light. Killua looked down to see what had caught his attention. He had almost forgot that the blisters on his skin had left bloody marks on the fabric of the shirt Gon had given him. 

“Sorry,” he said quickly, but he wasn’t sure why. Gon had said that whoever those clothes belonged to didn’t need them anymore, but that probably wasn’t a go-ahead to ruin them either. 

Gon worried the cotton between his fingers and shot his other hand out to grab Killua’s arm. Gon trailed his eyes slowly up Killua’s forearm until his was staring at the worst of the burn on his shoulders. 

“What is this?” Gon asked in a small voice. 

“A sunburn,” Killua told him. “It’s what happens when you have light skin and you’re out in the sun for too long.” 

“It’s from the sun?” He questioned. Killua nodded. 

“It happens to me all the time, but it’s not usually this bad.” 

“Really?” Gon looked for a moment longer, his face painted in worry, before getting to his feet. He took a few large, unsteady steps over to the desk and started to rummage around the drawers. He pulled out different bottles and flasks, holding each one up to what little light filtered into the room. He took the lid off one and sniffed it, made a sour face, and put it back. Killua could hear the glass clicking together as Gon continued to look for, well, something. 

He pulled a short round container out and read the label on the top of it. His face brightened and he came back to his previous spot on the floor, arranging himself carefully at Killua’s side. 

“Hold still,” Gon ordered after gooping some of the jar’s contents onto his fingers. Killua leaned back and stuck out his tongue. 

“No way, what _is_ that stuff?” 

“It’ll help, I think!” 

“You think?” 

Gon huffed. “I remember they made this on the island for the tourists. They used to say it was for the sun!” 

“Why do you have it?”

“It’s not mine,” Gon responded simply. He reached out and gingerly patted the cream onto Killua’s skin, his entire face set in concentration. Killua winced away out of habit, but after a second he realized the cream wasn’t painful. Where Gon had put the white gel on his skin the pain felt soothed, cool even. 

“Take off your shirt.” 

Killua did as he asked. Whatever the cream was, it was helping. It felt like rain in a desert on his aggravated skin. Killua turned to face his back to Gon, who set to work slathering the cream on the blisters. Killua couldn’t help it, he let out a low breath and relaxed backwards. It had been days since he had been able to move without rubbing the sensitive areas or making them bleed again. He let his eyes fall closed as Gon worked his fingers along his skin. He had almost forgotten how tired he was until he closed his eyes and melted into the sensation of Gon’s chilled fingers. 

“Better?” Gon murmured. It hadn’t occurred to Killua how close Gon was to him until he felt his breath on the sensitive base of his neck. Goosebumps trailed along his skin, and not just from the icy feeling of the cream. 

Killua nodded shakily. Gon’s hands stayed on his shoulders, massaging in small, light circles. His fingers trailed down Killua’s arms, his fingertips just barely there. Lazily they raked their way back up and then down his spine over every vertebra. Killua’s heartbeat started to pick up, hammering against his ribcage like it wanted out. If he had been relaxed before, every nerve in his body was now suddenly hyper aware of the man behind him. 

He should say something. Anything, really, to get Gon to stop. He knew Gon would if he asked, but his lips wouldn’t listen to his brain. I should tell him to stop was only a fraction of a second away from I don’t want him to stop. Surely he would remember if he had ever in his life been touched so softly, like his skin was as fine as silk and as precious as silver. Or if he had been, he couldn’t fathom it feeling like it did now, like anticipating the moment Gon moved his hand away would make him unravel. 

“I didn’t know it was possible,” Gon whispered. “For skin to feel like this.” 

He hadn’t known either. Gon’s fingers were rough, calloused surely from rope sliding against them day after day. Killua’s were too, from training. So why did it feel so intoxicating for Gon to touch him? Just skin on skin was all it was, really, so why did it feel like more than that? 

“You can sleep here, if you want.” 

Gon’s voice was so small Killua wouldn’t have heard it if he weren’t only inches away. Killua stiffened. 

“You don’t mean that,” he said slowly. 

“You don’t have a bed below, right?” 

Killua shook his head.

“You can take this one. I don’t mind the floor.” 

Killua couldn’t turn to look at Gon. He wasn’t sure what face he was making, but whatever it was it wasn’t something he wanted Gon to see, drunk or not. He didn’t know how Gon could just say things like that without wanting to die afterwards. Now that his mind was on it, though, he didn’t particularly like sleeping on the old straw in the cold underbelly of the ship. He glanced to the side at Gon’s bed. 

Gon pulled his hand off Killua’s skin, standing up to shuffle around again. Killua stopped himself from leaning back; he already missed the whisper of contact and the warmth that had come with Gon’s body so close to his. He hadn’t even realized how comforting it was until it wasn’t there anymore. 

Once he had rearranged his face to something like neutral, he turned to look over his shoulder. “I can’t stay in your room, Gon.” He flushed and wished he had worded it any other way.

Gon cocked his head to the side and stopped fumbling with the extra blankets he was holding. “Why not?” He asked sincerely. 

“People will- it’s just not, well…” Killua tried to voice his thoughts, realizing he was going to sound like an idiot. No one would think _that_ of him and Gon. 

Besides, people did this sort of thing, right? This wasn’t abnormal. Gon went back to arranging his blankets on the ground. He patted his hand on the mattress, looking pointedly at Killua. He stood up and moved cautiously over to the bed, lowering himself down slowly, giving Gon plenty of time to change his mind. After Killua was flat on the mattress, Gon situated himself on the floor. _No, this is weird_. Killua tried to relax enough to find sleep, but even with his eyes closed he no longer felt tired. 

“Why did you do it?” He heard himself ask. 

“Do what?” Gon started, sounding surprised. 

“Ask me to play the game with you tonight.” 

Gon hummed. It was a quiet sound without a tune, something like he was thinking. “We’re the same, I think.” 

Killua opened his eyes. “The same how?” 

“Lonely,” Gon breathed. He didn’t sound sad about it, but Killua’s chest twisted anyway. Maybe in the dark, where no one could see, it would be okay if he admitted it to himself. That he had felt alone. He couldn’t remember if it had always been like that. He hoped not. 

Gon though, he couldn’t imagine Gon being alone. Everyone loved him, and he got along well with the crew. They were happy enough to follow his orders; he’d not heard so much as a single negative comment about the captain from anyone. 

“It’s lonely, when you’re in a room that’s not yours, surrounded by things that don’t belong to you.” Gon said into the dark. Maybe the darkness was taking Gon’s secrets, too. 

“Who do they belong to?” Killua asked, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. 

He could hear Gon shifting on the floor, rolling or repositioning himself as the floorboards squeaked under his weight. Gon was quiet for a few breaths, but Killua was somehow sure he hadn’t fallen asleep. 

“It was-” Gon stopped himself. “Someone I cared about.” 

Someone he cared about. A pact of love. Killua pressed his lips together. Something he didn’t understand was stirring in his chest, something that was warm and insistent and uncomfortable. He reached up and placed his hand over the spot there, almost as if he needed to make sure there wasn’t physical evidence of whatever the cause of it was. 

Killua listened as Gon’s breathing evened out. Something like relief swept over him once he realized Gon was asleep. He might have started it, but he wasn’t prepared for Gon’s answer. There was something eerie about the way that Gon said tragic things. He said the words in a way that made them sound emotionless but made them feel like they carried the weight of the world. 

Whatever was stirring in Killua’s chest kept him from sleep. The bed underneath him was soft, but not in a way that reminded him of luxury. The quilts on the bed were worn, some of the patches coming apart at the seams, but they were well cared for and mended. It all smelled like Gon smelled, a little like the saltiness of the air mixed with something like fresh soil or soot. That was different from the other pirates and crew; he wasn’t sure how Gon could smell so much like the earth if he spent all his time on the ocean. 

Killua couldn’t remember. He had been trying for days until his head buzzed with pain. He couldn’t remember anyone being kind to him the way Gon was, and without any reason. He couldn’t remember liking the way someone smelled so much. He was starting to wonder if it was because he had forgotten, or if it was because no one ever was. He had threatened to kill Gon, for Poseidon’s sake, and now he was sleeping on his bed. It made no sense. 

He hated himself for wishing it. Was it an impossible thing to want? For Gon to laugh with him the way that he laughed at Knuckle? Or for Gon to fall easily into any conversation the way that he did with Kurapika? Was it too much to assume Gon could be that way with him, too? What was burning through him was the feeling of wanting something, he thought. Even to think it was more than he would allow himself, even in the quiet of his own mind and with the promise of darkness to hide it. No, instead he would force his eyes to close, his heartrate to slow, and his mind to calm. He would force himself to stop having these thoughts, because nothing could come of them but pain, he was sure. But on the edge of his dreams, he felt it all again, and he knew he couldn’t make his skin forget the feeling of Gon’s fingers, a remaining whisper of every kindness he didn’t know how to ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments and kudos mean so much to me, thank you all for reading!! Stay tuned for the promise of chaos in chapter 4 >:)


	4. Chapter 4

No sooner had Killua closed his eyes than was he awakened by his head thumping against the floor. He groaned and attempted to stand before stumbling to the side and into the dresser, which toppled its way over to the ground. Instantly the floor felt like it was tilting under his feet and he was thrown back onto the bed, his arms shooting out wildly trying to catch his fall. 

The ship was righting itself, Killua thought stupidly as he continued to fall over to the other side of the room onto the floor. He landed on a pile of blankets, and it took him a second to remember that pile of blankets should have been Gon. Where was Gon, then? 

The door banged on its hinges as the ship started to tetter the other way again, as if to accent Killua’s question. 

“Curse it,” he mumbled, trying his best to slip his shoes back on. Whatever was happening couldn’t be good, if the wild swinging of the ship was anything to go by.

Killua fumbled his way down the long hall with his hands on the walls to keep himself from falling. The motion of the ship had lulled some, and the thrashing back and forth wasn’t so violent as it first was when he woke up, but if he wasn’t careful it would be all too easy to go crashing into a wall. Most of the other doors Killua walked by were open, swinging on their hinges as Gon’s had been and slamming into their frames as the ship rocked. 

A force knocked Killua’s feet out from under him, sending him violently sprawling to the floor. The ship groaned loudly, and the sharp sound of splintering forced Killua to cover his ears. Killua may not be an experienced sailor, but he was willing to bet his salt they had just crashed into something. 

Killua sprang to his feet and took off towards for the deck. He needed to see what was going on and staying in the bunks was only going to get him squashed by furniture. It was disorienting trying to make his way to the deck while he could hear the ship bashing against something he couldn’t see. Where the hell was everyone? 

Killua finally made it to the stairs. He tried to reach out and grab the railing, but his hand slipped away, causing him to stumble again as the ship rocked underfoot. He pulled his hand up and rubbed his forefinger and thumb together. There was a substance coating the railing, a light powder-like dust that had a glow to it. It felt like ashes between his fingers, but it looked ethereal, giving the whole area a twinkle even as the light from dawn poured down from the deck. 

“Strange,” Killua said to himself. He put the powder close to his face, inspecting the smudge of it on his hand. It smelled floral, almost obnoxiously like perfume. He pulled his hand away and scrunched his nose, looking around at how it had settled in a layer over the stairs and railings like a fine dust. 

The ship rocked again, not as brutally but unsettlingly all the same. He pushed himself to his feet again and carefully made his way up all the steps, making a point not to slip on the strange powder. He blinked in surprise as he emerged out onto the deck. The powder was hanging all around in the air and covered everything on the deck. It would have looked like snow if it weren’t for the way it glimmered. 

Killua whipped his head around wildly, looking for anyone or any clue of what was going on. The ship lurched again, but this time he could see why. They had entered a narrow pathway between steep cliffs that surrounded them on either side. In their pathway there were multiple sharp, jagged rocks jutting up and out of the ocean. The water churned angrily around them, rushing around and creating a current they had no doubt been pulled into. Fog hung heavily in front of them, obscuring their path until they were already whizzing by. Well, fog or whatever strange substance was in the air. The whole place smelled impossibly of flowers. 

Someone bumped into Killua’s side. He whipped his head around and saw Knuckle.

“Knuckle,” Killua said, his voice on the edge of panicked. “What the hell is going on? Why are we in this pass?” 

Knuckle didn’t so much as turn to Killua. Back to ignoring him already? 

“What the hell, Knuckle?” Killua said, angrily this time. 

Knuckle mechanically put one foot in front of the other. The ship lurched to the side as the current twisted them into the throws of another set of bumps and rocks, sending the ship fishtailing from side to side. In front of Killua, Knuckle teetered from side to side with the ship before turning back around. 

His eyes were glazed over, his whole face unresponsive. He wavered against the movement of the ship before he straightened himself out and started walking back to the edge of the ship like he had been before. 

“Knuckle!” Killua yelled. He craned his neck around, looking for the other crew members. To his horror, he quickly realized there was no one manning any of the sails. Of course. There was no yelling, no song, no cursing and laughing as everyone went about their work. The rush of the water was deafening, but the silence that hung in the air was more unnerving. It was never this quiet. 

The sails flapped in the wind, half untied, and did little to help direct them. Killua took a few long strides over to where the ropes were flailing in the wind. He grabbed them and clumsily gathered them together. He could do this, he had seen the others do it a thousand times. 

Killua took a breath. He could do it. He tied down the sail to the mast and made his way over to the other side where it was still bound. He released the ropes and let the cloth catch the side, instantly inflating and catching in the wind. It took all his strength to keep the sail from flipping out of his grasp, but he managed to struggle it down and tie the rope off as he’d done on the other side. He let out a sharp breath. The resistance of the sail’s effects was immediate, causing the ship to slow and fight against the current, if only slightly. One down. 

He scanned the deck for Knuckle, or for anyone else. The powder clouded his vision, so he jogged over the direction he saw Knuckle go. 

“Knuckle?” He called out again. Then, hesitantly, “Gon?” 

No reply. The glimmering dust was so thick in the air he started to cough as he approached the railing of the ship. 

Killua’s eyes bulged out of his head and he scrambled to the edge of the ship where he saw at least three bodies hanging out over the side, looking down at the water below. 

“Stop!” He yelled loudly, but none of them even registered his voice. 

He got to Knuckle first. He grasped the back of his shirt and pulled with all his strength, sending the bigger man flying backwards and onto his back. He turned back and grabbed the other two, people he didn’t recognize, flinging them away from the edge. 

“He does not sleep.” 

Killua cried out at the pain of the voice he heard. The strange sounds barely seemed to form words, sounding more like nails against chalkboard. It echoed inside his head. He opened his eyes and tried to find the source of the voice, but it was impossible to see anything out over the fog. 

“Then he cannot see us.”

“Would he like to sleep?” 

The sounds were nothing but pain. “No,” he said into the void. “No.” 

He took a few large steps back, smacking against a firm chest. Leorio. This close Killua could see that his eyes looked completely glazed over, glowing slightly like the powder. He face was completely neutral, his mouth hanging open slightly. He didn’t even look down at Killua, instead trying again to step around him and towards the railing of the ship where he had found the others. 

“Leorio, stop!” Killua said frantically, grabbing onto his clothes. Leorio didn’t so much as turn his head. 

“Leorio!” Killua whipped his head to the side at the sound of another voice that wasn’t his own. The ship smacked violently against the side of the ravine, throwing them off balance again. 

Red glowed through the fog. He only knew one source of a color like that. “Kurapika, over here!” Killua called out. 

Kurapika looked nothing short of shocked at Killua hand holding the back of Leorio’s shirt and he continued to try to make his way over to the rail. 

Kurapika was holding a rag over his mouth. “Killua,” he said before heaving into the cloth. His eyes may have glowed red, but Killua could see the dust starting to cloud them over. 

“We told him to sleep!”

Kurapika let out a shriek and dropped to his knees, holding his head in his hands. “Let the sails down and tie everyone you can find to the masts! Before it’s too late,” he rasped between gasps for air. 

Killua watched in horror as Kurapika started coughing again, his whole chest retching, before he stopped completely. 

“Kurapika?” Killua asked hesitantly. His heart hammered in his chest. Kurapika sat up slowly, pushing himself back to rest on his calves before moving to stand. For a moment he didn’t move, then he turned his head back to Killua. His eyes weren’t red anymore, but he didn’t try to walk off and flirt with death over the railing of the ship, so there was at least that. 

“Shit,” Killua cursed. Tie them up, that was what he needed to do. Tie them up and then let down the sails. 

He got to work gathering the rope, pulling Leorio along behind him. Kurapika was at least easier control, so he tied the two of them first. He sat them down and tied them quickly as he could manage to the compass. Leorio let out a groaning noise and struggled against the constraints, but he didn’t seem lucid enough to pull them off. 

It would have to do. Killau ran back over to where he had left the other group, only to find that they had moved again. 

The ship hurled forward, knocking Killua’s feet from under him. The current must have sped up, because the ship started to move increasingly faster and more wildly. Killua threw the ropes over his shoulders and made for the upper deck. 

“Let another sail down,” he told himself. “Slow down the ship, tie up the idiots, don’t die.” He screeched to a halt and set to work on the ropes. 

“Who is this one who will not listen?” 

He winced at the horrible sound filling his ears. He willed his fingers to keep moving, his body to keep at his task. The sail released and filled with air on one side, sending the tail end of the ship jutting out to the side. 

“Shit,” he cursed again to himself. He wasted no time getting to work on the other side. Anytime he had seen this done on deck, a group did it together, keeping the ship flawlessly on course. His methods would have to be good enough. He tried not to flinch as the tail port thwacked against the cliff side, rock crumbling onto the deck. 

“He will hear us!” The terrible voice screeched. The sheer intensity of it knocked the wind from his lungs, the ropes falling from his hands. Killua blinked, and then he looking out at the sea. The waters were calm, a beautiful, crisp blue that was as smooth as glass. Where had he been? He didn’t want to remember. The water rippled, droplets pulling upwards from the sea ad they started an elegant dance around each other. The pulled together, slowly, into a shape like a person. 

The water solidified at the thighs first, creating the outline of curves that were enhanced by the slope of the shape’s waist. The curves rolled like the water itself, like a sculpture too perfect to be real and yet it was moving all the same. The face shaped into almond eyes and large lips, hair spilling out from and down, curling around the naked figure of a woman. 

And then it started to sing. A sound like bells ringing together in a summer breeze, so fluid and sweet that Killua drank it in and suddenly felt like he couldn’t get enough. He would surely drown without this sound, his lungs screaming with the want for more of it. He opened his mouth and sucked in as deep as he could. 

Something in his vision broke. The sea around the woman, was it churning? The song faded the harder he looked at the disruption. He wanted to listen, he did, but what was that? 

He saw the cliffs again. The rocks that had forced their way up from the ocean floor. He felt his air whipping around his face as the wind pushed past, reminding him that oh yes, they were going way too fast. Killua blinked. 

The voice in his head roared a terrible cry, breaking the last of his confusion and sending him into motion. The sails, he remembered finally. I need to secure the sails. Killua wondered if that vision was what had happened to the rest of the crew when their eyes glazed over. He shook his head and focused on his task, a newfound hast quickening his movements, and once he was finished the sail hit the wind like a wall and jolted the ship, slowing it down again. 

Killua didn’t have time to think. He jumped down over the railing of the upper deck and activated Godspeed. He zipped around the deck, ropes in hand, and looped the strand tightly around the waist of anyone he could find. Most of them were by the edges of the ship, making it easy enough to account for most of the crew. Then he started to pull, reigning them all in by force until he could see them stumbling back and away from the railing of the ship. He tethered the rope’s end to the mast nearest to the center of the ship and did a rough headcount. He was missing a couple, he knew for sure. And Gon was nowhere to be seen.

He shook his head again. He had to let down the rest of the sails and buy himself some time to be able to figure out how to get out of here. Using Godspeed again, Killua let down the other two sails as quickly as he could. The extra resistance steadied the ship’s movements and slowed them against the current. 

Killua launched himself up to the deck to the wheel he had seen when he first woke up on the ship. The wheel was spinning to the side uncontrollably, no doubt without direction as the rest of the ship. Killua grabbed one of the knobs. The force of the spinning wheel instantly pulled him to his knees, but he grunted and held true with all his strength. He could feel his muscles straining against the way the wheel wanted to pull, but he was able to stop the spinning. Killua wasn’t sure how long he would be able to manage it like that. He still couldn’t see very far ahead of them, but if he concentrated, he could react quickly enough to avoid the majority of the roughest sections of rocks. Maybe, just maybe, they would get out of here. 

Killua turned to check on the crew and make sure no one else had wondered over to the edge, and his heart stopped cold in his chest. Hanging there from the mast, like a spider from a web, was none other than Captain Twelve himself. He was dangled upside down from the rope, and Killua could see the slight glimmer in his eyes. 

“Gon!” he yelled, his body rocking forward on instinct. The wheel clashed down as soon as Killua let up his hold, crashing pressure down on his arm. He grunted in pain and resituated his hold, pulling the wheel back upwards. He whipped his head back up and found Gon was looking back at him, almost how Kurapika had. Like he wasn’t going to try to throw himself overboard, but he wasn’t really there either. 

“Gon,” he tried again, sounding desperate this time. He could hardly help the way his voice cracked slightly. If Gon fell from that height, Killua wasn’t sure what would happen. In the state Knuckle and Leorio had been in earlier, they might have let go to get wherever it was they were trying to go. Killua swallowed and let his mind race for a solution. 

“Gon,” He said, more evenly this time. “Can you hear me?” Gon stared back at him. The glimmering dust flitted between them, suspended in the air like Gon, catching the light. “Listen, this isn’t really all my business, and I don’t want to die on this ship, so it’d be nice if you could wake up.” 

“He cannot hear you, mortal,” the voice raged. “They are all the same.” 

“Shut up,” Killua panted. The pain is his body distracted him from the pain in his mind when the voice spoke. He turned his body in full force as an upcoming bed of rocks came into view. Killua strained to stand up to his full height, pushing against the force of the ocean itself as the wheel creaked its protest. He shoved as much as he could to the other side, veering the ship just enough to miss the worst of the damage. They bounced over some of the rapids he couldn’t avoid, throwing him off his balance and back to his knees. 

“Hello.”

Killua nearly fell backwards at the sound of Gon’s voice so close. Killua hadn’t seen him move, but he must have because he was perched on the railing of the ship, only feet away from Killua. The glimmering dust’s coating was still visible on Gon’s eyes, but it had cracked, revealing some of the hazel beneath. Killua could see a thin film over his ears as well, which he hadn’t noticed before. 

“Are you alright, nymph?” Gon asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“What?” Killua managed against the pull of the ship. “No, it’s me, Killua.” Gon just stared back at him. “Are you there?” 

“It looked like you were talking to me before. I couldn’t really hear you, but I could see you.”

“You can see me?” Killua asked hopefully. If Gon could see him, that meant he could leave the vision like he had. 

“Yes,” he replied without emotion, his face arranged neutrally. “I’ve heard that nymphs take the most beautiful human forms when they appear to mortals. That’s what you must be, that’s why I see you.”

“You-you can’t be serious right now,” Killua stuttered in shock. Out of everything he had seen since waking up in the middle of a deadly ocean pass, he was the most unnerved by whatever was possessing Gon’s consciousness. 

“Do you have a request of me, is that why you chose to come here?” 

Killua stared back in mortification. “A _what_? For heaven’s sake, Gon, wake up-”

The shrieking cut him off, making it impossible to be heard over the ferocity of the sound. Killua shuddered involuntarily, but Gon’s face started to relax. 

“Are you there, nymph?” He said dreamily. “I think I can see you, or maybe I just remember you, but the wind chimes are so…so…”

Killua cried out as the sound in his head intensified like pins and needles in his brain. “Stop!” He yelled into nothing, knowing no one could hear him. Frustration built up in his chest, fighting its way out in a scream that ripped his throat. “ _Gon_!” 

Gon blinked. His head tilted back downwards in the direction of Killua again. 

“They couldn’t create you even if they tried,” Gon said. “I see you, nymph.” 

The voices quieted as the rush of blood in Killua’s ears increased. If ever there was a time to blush, this was not it. Focus. 

“I have my request,” Killua breathed urgently. He may not be a spirit, but he wasn’t going to pass over a favor. 

“Ask it of me.” 

“Steer this ship, and whatever you do don’t let go,” Killua replied. Gon watched him for a moment, and then he nodded. 

“Alright.” He stepped down from where he had been balanced on the railing, taking his time with each movement. It was all mechanical, lacking Gon’s normal abruptness that somehow still seemed graceful. He took each step like he had to force his arms and legs to obey and remind himself how to move his limbs. 

Then he was crouched in front of Killua as he struggled against the weight of the ship. Killua could see how the glimmering dust collected around his eyes and shifted like something sand come alive, but he could also see the color in Gon’s irises where the coverage broke apart. Even then the dust continued its motions, shifting like it was fighting to cover the whole area again but was unable to. 

“The ocean is in your eyes, water spirit,” Gon said. 

The ship slide against the cliffside where the pass started to narrow, pushing the ship with a jolt. Killua tore away from Gon’s gaze to look back out over the front of the ship. 

“Shit,” he said lowly. He could see the rocks and path narrowing ahead, leaving an impossibly small passable space. 

“Quick,” he hissed, “take the wheel!” Gon did as he asked, reaching out and applying his own strength to keeping the wheel from spinning out of control. 

“I’m going to let go and go down on the deck,” Killua told him quickly, trying to speak as clearly as possible. He wasn’t sure how much Gon could even hear. “Don’t let go,” Killua said, finally releasing his own grip on the wheel. Gon instantly adjusted for the added pressure, his face remaining as blank as before. Killua watched skeptically for a moment longer, but Gon didn’t look like he was going to budge. 

“Okay,” he breathed to himself, chancing a glance back at the rapidly approaching narrows ahead. He jumped down to the deck and bounded over to where he had left Kurapika and Leorio. Kurapika sat as still as he had before; he looked almost like he was reading a book, distant and focused. Leorio, on the other hand, still fought against his constraints, muttering, “I need to get over to her!”. Killua decided to ignore him and kneeled down in front of Kurapika to examine him. 

His eyes and ears looked covered. Sitting in Kurapika’s lap with the cloth he had been using to avoid breathing in the dust before. Killua picked it up and experimentally whipped Kurapika’s ears with it, and then his eyes. The dust started to fall away, but it moved to recollect almost immediately. Killua whipped away the dust from Kurapika’s ears again. 

“Kurapika,” he tried. When there was no response, he tried again, yelling this time. “Kurapika! Wake up! Gon, Leorio, we’re all in danger! Wake up so you can boss me around and fix this!” Killua was all but pleading. He needed someone else to help him man the sails and Kurapika was the only person who wouldn’t try to make himself fish food if he untied him. 

Killua frowned at Kurapika’s blank stare. He reached his hand back and slapped him hard on the cheek. The dust swooshed out of one of his ears on the impact. Kurapika righted himself and reached one of his hands up to touch his face absently. 

“Do not anger us further, mortal.” 

“Kurapika!” Killua yelled, louder than before, over the terrible screeching. “Wake up! We have to save Gon and Leorio and everyone else!” He could hardly hear his own words over the rush of the ocean and the voices, so he yelled it again until his throat was raw. “Wake up or I swear I’ll throw this damned compass and Leorio overboard!” He drew his hand back to slap Kurapika again.

Kurapika caught his hand mid-motion, his eyes igniting like scarlet fire. “If you ever do that again, I will chain you to the front bow of the ship and let you rot.” 

Relief flooded through Killua. “No time for the pleasantries,” he quipped. “Can you stand? We need to move fast.” Killua pointed up and at the cliffsides. Kurapika’s eye’s slid past him and then widened in shock. 

He leapt to his feet. “What have you been doing?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, trying to keep everyone from dying!” Killua yelled, his voice thick with sarcasm and his eyes wide in disbelief. 

Kurapika tied Leorio’s knots back off before sprinting past Killua onto the middle of the deck. “Come on, hurry up, we have to set the sails! You’ll have to help me!” He stopped in front of the mast. “Merlin’s beard,” he cursed, running his hands over Killua’s poorly tethered knots. “I’ve never seen worse.” 

Killua felt his eye twitch. 

“Grab there, now!” Kurapika ordered, doing the same on his side. He stopped to tie the fabric in his hand around his mouth, making sure to cover his ears this time. “Together we need to tighten the slack. If we can get all these secured down, we can use the one on top deck for finite movement through the pass ahead!” 

Killua grunted his understanding and watched for Kurapika’s signal. 

“Ready, heave!” 

Killua pulled with all his might back, forcing the sails to come back down until they were taut. 

“Hold!” 

He held. His heels slid on the deck and he was pulled froward slightly, so he gritted his teeth together and pulled back harder. Kurapika worked with expert speed as he tied off his side and come to meet Killua, taking over his hold on the sail to tie it down properly. 

“We’ll do the main deck next!” Killua followed as they ran back to the middle of the ship, stepping over Killua’s handy work of roped together crew as they went. Most of the pirates tugged against the ropes as Leorio had, but they didn’t have the strength the break free. 

Kurapika gave him a pointed look as they weaved in out and of people, which Killua ignored. 

The set to work on the next sail, quickly untying the mess of ropes and pulling them back steady. “Care to explain to me what’s going on here?”

“Sirens,” Kurapika spat out as he looped the ropes around the wooden frame. “I don’t know how we missed the signs. They hide in places like this and use this variation of sea salt poison to cloud your senses enough to give you visions and lure you to death. It’s old magic, I don’t even know if it’s Nen.” He secured the last of the ropes and they ran to the next mast. “Usually you can see it coming or avoid their hide outs, but it’s difficult once this stuff is in the air.”

“It was probably that good for nothing compass that can’t find east from west,” Killua complained as he held his side of the sail. 

Kurapika gave him a sideways look. “In a way,” he said before taking the ropes in his own hands. “It might have been.” 

“Shouldn’t getting lulled to your death at least be pleasant?” Killua grumbled.

“It’s only painful if you fight it.” 

The ship screeched as it knocked against the side of the ravine. Kurapika and Killua shared a look before turning and sprinting up to the top deck. The glimmery dust, Nen sea salt, whatever, was still too thick in the air to see much aside from the narrowing of the pass. 

“There might not be a way out of here,” Kurapika said lowly, his eyes trained forward. Killua had been trying to avoid thinking the same thing. 

The bow of the ship careened under their feet as the jagged rocks became littered over the entirety of their path. The ship smacked against the cliffside again, sending rocks falling down and splashing into the water or splintering the wood on the deck. 

“We have to do something!” 

“What?” Kurapika yelled back. “There’s nothing to do! We need to untie the main sail so we can adjust for what we can and ride out the rest.” Kurapika reached up and tightened the tie covering his face, suppressing a cough. “That’s all we can do.” They both knew there were no other options, so they made their way unsteadily to the top deck. 

“Gon!” 

Gon didn’t respond to Kurapika’s calls, but his head snapped up as Killua approached behind him. There were tears streaming down from his eyes, but his face was as hollow as before, not scrunched in pain. Killua’s chest twisted as he watched Gon’s muscles tremble against the strain of the wheel. It looked like his body was reacting to the physical strain, but he wasn’t processing it. 

Kurapika stopped short, whipping his head back around to look at Killua, then back at Gon, who stared intently at Killua. 

“The sail,” was all Kurapika said, his voice unreadable. They rushed to the mast and fumbled with the ropes until they were untied, one side held by each of them. They watched as closely out into the fog as they could and readied themselves for whatever might emerge in their path. 

“Hold on, Gon!” Killua yelled over the rush of the air. 

The cliffside jutted out dramatically on the left side of the ship immediately ahead, and as soon as Kurapika and Killua saw, they reacted and pulled the sail enough to catch the wind and send them slightly away from the rocks, avoiding the sideswipe. The righted the sail again, but in an instant another group of shut-ins appeared in their path and they were heaving the sail the other way. 

It was working. They were keeping the ship from hitting either side of the narrow ravine and avoiding most of the damage they had been running smack into minutes before. Before them, Killua could see the pathway starting to open up again.

“Is the dust clearing?” He called out to Kurapika. It seemed like more light had filtered in and the fog was lifting, which increased their visibility some. Killua didn’t dare look anywhere other than straight ahead, but he had to agree the dust did seem to be letting up. 

“I think so, it’s easier to breathe,” Kurapika yelled back as he tightened his side of the sail while Killua loosened his grip on his. The ship ticked by another group of rocks successfully. 

“If the path is opening up-”

“We might be close to open water,” Kurapika finished for him. 

The rocks became easier to dodge as the ravine widened again, allowing them more room to maneuver the ship. The current even started to slow some, steading the ship’s previously wild and unpredictable movements. Kurapika’s coughing quieted as well as the dust hung less heavily in the air around them. The odd, ominous glittering in the darkness was replaced by natural light. 

“Do not let them escape!” 

The voice boomed so loud that Killua felt the ship tremble. Kurapika cried out, falling to his knees with his hands over his ears. 

“Gon!” Killua screamed, turning back around towards the wheel. The shrieking continued, but this time it was hard to tell the voices from his or Kurapika’s as they all bled together in a terrible sound. Killua couldn’t turn back far enough to see Gon and keep his grasp on the ropes. The screaming didn’t cease like it had before, instead continuing with fury and vengeance in its cries. 

“The sails,” Killua tried to warn Kurapika with all he could muster. He saw Kurapika force himself to stand, his knees shaking and his back rising and falling with ragged breaths. 

“We need,” Kurapika gasped, “to check on Gon.” 

Killua knew that. He couldn’t let go of the sails either, and he and Kurapika both knew it. Neither of them had the strength to use Nen; they barely had the strength to continue on like they were for much longer. Kurapika couldn’t hold the sails by himself and the ship couldn’t take another nosedive into the rocky cliffs. 

Killua felt something warm rolling down his jaw and neck from his ringing ears. If the screaming didn’t stop soon, they might have more problems than they already did. 

Impossibly, a hand shot out and grabbed the ropes Killua had hold of. He blinked at the sudden movement, unable to comprehend the arm sticking out of from the floorboards from what looked like a puddle of Nen even though it was right in front of him. 

“That’s- it’s Leorio,” Kurapika marveled in disbelief. 

“That old geezer?” Killua yelped in shock, releasing his hold on the ropes to take a few steps back. “He was knocked out of his mind!” 

Kurapika laughed like he was just as surprised, and the happy sound was in such stark contrast of the rushing water and the terrible screaming that it was almost unbelievable. “Gon,” Kurapika reminded him with newfound confidence, tightening his grip on the ropes and setting his stance in determination. “Leave this to us.” 

He didn’t need to tell Killua twice, he was already in motion. As soon as he reached it, Killua threw his remaining strength against the wheel in an effort to ease the burden. Then he looked down at Gon, who was all but collapsed on the deck. 

“In the morning, the sun will shine on us,” Gon whispered to himself. “In the morning, the sun will shine on us.” 

“Gon,” Killua said desperately, trying to get his attention. He could see his ears were bleeding too, but the dust wasn’t covering over them as heavily as before. 

“Kite?” Gon turned his head up from where it had been rested on his shoulder. He blinked his eyes back at Killua, and he could see the last of the glimmer was starting to fall away. It streamed down his face along with the tears, giving the streaks a tint of glitter. “Killua,” he said this time. 

“Listen, Gon, I’m here, okay?” Killua told him. He couldn’t even be angry at himself for letting his voice crack at the knowledge Gon recognized him. 

“The stars will guide us,” Gon said back to him, but the tears stopped streaming down his face. Killua supposed that it was probably better than calling him a water spirit and thinking the screeching sounded like wind chimes. “I didn’t let go.”

“I know.” Killua assured him. “We can’t let go yet, either. We have to hold it until we’re out of here.” 

Gon nodded, resting his head back on his arms that held the wheel from turning. With both of them together, Killua hoped they would be able to keep the ship steady enough for Leorio and Kurapika to steer them out of the ravine. He had no idea how long it would take, or even how far they would have to go. 

“It’s up ahead,” Gon said quietly. 

Killua turned his head back down to look at him again. “What?” 

“The path.”

He must still be delusional. Gon hadn’t so much as looked out at their surroundings this entire time, Killua had no idea how he would have any clue where they were. Even if he did, they were facing the back of the ship, making it impossible to even see the path in the first place. 

“I see it!” Kurapika called out at them, excitement lacing his words. “I can see the ocean!” 

Killua didn’t have time to ponder the implications of it all; his questions for Gon, his own palpable relief, any of it. Around them, the water was rising. The water was rising up around the edge of the ship and moving, shaping, taking form, like it had in the vision. Killua rubbed his face against his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t dreaming again. 

“They will not leave this place!” The voice screamed in fury, the water quaking like it was speaking. 

“Kurapika,” Killua said urgently, his voice pitching up unintentionally. “Do you see that too?” 

“Yes,” he answered. 

The water moved and took the shape of a hand, shooting out onto the deck of the ship and towards the Killua and Gon. 

“Gon, watch out!” Killua yelled, leaning over Gon’s body with his own as the water hit them in full force. It felt like being swept away in the current as the figure tried to pull them away from the wheel and over the edge of the ship. Eventually the water lost its form and splashed down against the deck harmlessly, but the ocean was already rising up around the ship again. 

Killua braced himself for another wave of the attack, positioning his body to better shield Gon from the worst of it. Whatever was trying to grab them screamed in frustration as it failed again to pull them over the edge of the ship. The next assault was a shove against the entire ship, sending them sloshing as the boat rocked on its axis. 

“How much farther?” Killua screamed out over the thunderous churning of the ocean in the ravine. 

“We’re close,” Gon answered beneath him. 

“Just a little farther to go!” Kurapika told him before grunting out a command to Leorio to help keep the ship from hitting against the rocks as it was being pushed to and fro. 

The dust had stopped falling around them, the only remnants of the strange Nen stirring wildly around the deck as they caught the strong current of the wind. Killua prayed that meant that Kurapika and Gon were right and they were almost out of the worst of it. 

The water surged up again, visible over the railing, and started to spin and slosh angrily together. Killua watched in horror as the water pulled together to form something that looked like a face. It contorted into an irate sneer, the water moving and reforming and changing but keeping the same expression of outrage. Another hand reached out and over the railing, larger this time, and with a purpose. And it was coming straight for him and Gon. 

And then, in an instant, they were leaving the half-formed monster behind them. The deafening noise had been going on for so long that it took Killua a second to process that everything around them had gone quiet and still. They weren’t surrounded by rocky cliffs. 

And when he blinked his eyes, all he could see was the open ocean and the partly cloudy sky. Slowly, hesitantly, he stood up from his protective stance over Gon and took his hands off the wheel. It didn’t spin wildly out of control, the ship didn’t fishtail, and, best of all, there was no sound of splintering wood. There was no sound at all. Killua collapsed backwards against the steering wheel. 

“Gon,” he said, letting his head fall to the side to check on the other man. “Gon, are you here?” Are you really awake? He didn’t ask that; he was afraid of the answer. 

Gon let his arms fall away from the wheel as well, though they continued to tremble from the prolonged stress and exertion. Gon fell onto his back from where he had been propped on his knees, his head landing straight into Killua’s lap. 

“Yup,” he popped the ‘p’. “I’m here.” 

He needed to be sure. He needed to see it for his own eyes that Gon was okay. “Open your eyes,” he ordered. 

Gon did. Killua leaned down so he could inspect for any traces of the Nen on Gon’s face. His eyes were his own, Killua knew in an instant. They glowed back at him as bright as ever, and from this close he could clearly see the tinge of green on the outside of his irises that gave them the hazel coloration. Even Gon’s thick eyelashes were clear of any remaining dust. Killua brought his hand up to the edge of Gon’s neck, whipping away where the blood had trailed down from his ears. He moved his thumb along the edge of Gon’s jaw where the smudges of red had smeared together with his tears. Killua might have been aware he was tenderly cradling Gon’s face if he wasn’t too tired to form a thought aside from ‘check on Gon’, but alas, he was not. 

“Killua!” Leorio called from below on the main deck. “Bring Gon down here so I can check on him.” 

Killua didn’t move immediately. He let his eyes rake over Gon’s face again, and then over his body to check for any other visible signs of injury. When he found none, he hoisted himself to his feet. He knelt down and took Gon’s arms, pulling them over his shoulders until Gon was situated firmly against his back. He stood, swaying at first from fatigue, and then steadied himself. Gon rested his head on Killua’s shoulder, their cheeks brushing together as he did it. If Killua felt woozier in that moment, he chalked it up to how tired his muscles were, even though he could easily support Gon’s weight. 

On the deck Leorio was kneeling down by the other crew members with a medical bag and instruments organized neatly around him. Leorio looked up at them and over at Gon immediately. 

“Set him down and give me one second,” Leorio told him, nodding his head over to where Kurapika was propped up against the side railing of the ship. Killua sat Gon down next to Kurapika and sat down next to him. He eyed Leorio as he made his way over holding his case. 

“What? Think you can do better than a doctor, do you?” 

Killua raised an eyebrow. “You’re a doctor?” 

“Yes, I’m a doctor!” Leorio huffed, shoving his thermometer into Gon’s mouth. Killua wasn’t sure he believed him, but he Gon seemed to trust him, so he stayed quiet. 

Finally he sat back, looking over at Kurapika again. “They’ll be alright, no serious injuries,” Leorio said. “If Kurapika falls asleep, wake him back up.”

“I’m right here, you know.” 

Leorio shot him a glare. “You won’t tell us if you don’t feel well, so this is what you get. Doctor’s orders.” Kurapika didn’t look pleased, but Leorio was already walking back over to the rest of the crew before he could argue further. 

“Thank you, Killua,” Gon said.

Killua gave him a look. “I didn’t have a lot of choice. I didn’t want to die, you know.” He was glad Gon wasn’t looking back at him, because there was a trace of a relieved smile on his face that would have given him away. 

They sat in comfortable silence. Killua occasionally peaked open his eyes to check on Gon and Kurapika out of the corner of his eye, but they both seemed to be nothing more than bone tired. After Leorio had checked over the rest of the crew for any substantial injuries and found none, he collapsed next to Kurapika. They all slouched against the railing, their legs sprawled out in front of them, and stared at the ocean. 

“I’ve never been so happy to not see land in my life.” Even to his own ears, Killua sounded exhausted. 

“Me either, and I remember my life.” Leorio agreed. Gon let out a strangled half snort, like he had meant to laugh but was too tired to do it properly. 

“Watch yourself, old man.” 

“I’m only twenty-four, you know!”

“Sure,” Killua drawled, closing his eyes and resting his head backwards. 

The crew came to in waves, but the sea was calm, and gods know the sails were tied down, so no one made any particular hast in returning to normal ship life. Most everyone seemed tired and dazed as the effects continued to wear off. 

They sat that way for a long time. The gentle breeze and soft sunlight felt too good to be true after the hysterics of the previous events. Killua was perfectly content to sit with his eyes closed and let his tired muscles go so still he thought he might fall asleep.

“So, Killua,” Leorio said innocently. “How were you not effected by the poison in the air?” 

Killua didn’t move an inch. “I told you, I’m immune to poison.” 

A beat of silence. Killua opened his eyes to find the others staring at him like he’d just said he wanted to turn the ship around and hit replay. 

“What?” 

“You were serious about that?” Kurapika questioned. 

Killua bristled. “Duh, what do you think?” He raised an eyebrow at the blonde man. “It didn’t affect you as badly either.” 

Kurapika cleared his throat, and Leorio stifled a laugh. 

“ _What_?” Killua asked again, exasperated this time. 

“It’s more difficult for me to fall victim to illusions when I activate the properties of my eyes.” Kurapika explained. 

“Well what about Gon?” Killua continued. It was strange, now that he thought about it, how some people were more easy to wake than others. Leorio laughed in full force that time, and Gon smiled sheepishly. 

“What am I missing?” Killua gripped over Leorio’s bellowing laughter. Kurapika pursed his lips. Killua turned his head to Gon, waiting for him to clue him in on whatever was so funny. 

“Sirens are women,” Gon said simply, like that should explain everything. 

Killua blushed as he remembered the image of the woman in his vision, the same one that everyone else must have been seeing too. “So?” He muttered testily. 

“ _So_ ,” Leorio cut in, taking a break to catch his breath, “the Nen doesn’t work as well when you aren’t attracted to women.” 

Killua’s eyes widened. Kurapika and Gon stayed staunchly quiet. Killua’s head whipped around to the other crew members, noticing again how some of them had come to faster than others. He remembered how some of them had fought harder, already trying to get over the edge when he corralled them, and how some of them had been more confused than completely entranced. He shook his head to avoid thinking about how Gon had been the least effected aside from himself and failed miserably. 

_They couldn’t create you even if they tried_. Something stirred low in his stomach as he pictured Gon looking up at him earnestly and saying those words. 

“That means you guys are the gayest of all!” Leorio hollered, still laughing so hard he was doubled over. Kurapika brought his arm down and cuffed the back of Leorio’s head hard enough to make a satisfying sound. 

“Ow,” he complained. 

“Shut up, Leorio.” 

“What’s your excuse, old man?” Killua demanded, and he heard Kurapika laugh. He jerked his head to the side to see it with his own eyes, and sure enough, Kurapika was laughing. At something he said. It felt like more of a win than taking on a hoard of sirens. 

Gon grinned cheekily, his eyes still trained straight ahead. “I think you might be wrong about who’s the gayest.” Killua followed his vision and saw one person was still sitting in the heaps of dejected ropes the others had long since freed themselves from. 

Slumped there in the middle of the deck, with her face still blissfully serene, was Banana. The glimmering dust had long since cleared without so much as a trace left behind, but she looked engrossed in her daydream. Killua couldn’t help letting out a lighthearted chuckle along with the rest of them.

Then he let his head fall against Gon’s shoulder. The contact soothed him; he wanted more than anything to feel Gon warm and next to him, unharmed. Alive. After the day he’d had, he decided to allow it of himself. 

He felt Gon’s chest shake as he chuckled at Leorio’s comment before returning the gesture and resting his head lightly on top of Killua’s. 

“You might be right about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you simply cannot tell me Banana isn't the gayest hxh character of all time. :) THANKYOUALL for commenting and leaving kudos and generally enjoying this story with me!!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the product of me listening to a few too many sea shanties... I apologize in advance


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